


10 yards to go

by ListenOak



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Football, M/M, canon compliant mostly, everything's essentially the same except ronan and gansey play football, football au, i self-channel adam a Lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ListenOak/pseuds/ListenOak
Summary: Adam didn’t care about football.  Between school and work and searching for Glendower, he just didn’t have the time to care.  Of course, it was plausible that he didn’t care because his father had cared too much.  It was also plausible that he didn’t care because he liked not to think about the incredulous wads of money football players made simply for throwing pigskin around while he struggled to cover rent.In any case, Adam didn’t care.  Which made it all the while more confusing as to why he had just walked through Aglionby’s football field’s gate entrance.          tl;dr Ronan and Gansey join the Aglionby football team and adam and ronan's Feelings surge ft. Ronan in football pants





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so just a few things to start off i started this fic a year ago because i discovered a lack of pynch football au's so i found it in myself to fill that hole. this is important to note because it's been a really jumbled process and therefore the writing, in my opinion, seems to shift around 4 chapters or so in so that's why. I wrote some chapters last november and then sparingly over the next year  
> additionally, this was developed, thought out, and started before raven king came out and with that, henry is not a prominent player in this fic as he would have been had i developed this after trk came out, with the overall presence of henry in that book. furthermore i wouldn't feel like i would do him justice at the moment  
> this fic takes place loosely somewhere in bllb most probably-ish
> 
>  
> 
> thanks so much to michael (bluestkingblue over on tumblr) for beta-ing this god bless you patient soul

              Adam didn’t care about football.  Between school and work and searching for Glendower – which he was barely holding together as is – he just didn’t have the time to care.  Of course, it was plausible that he didn’t care because his father had cared too much.  It was also plausible that he didn’t care because he liked not to think about the incredulous wads of money football players made simply for throwing pigskin around while he struggled to cover rent.

              In any case, Adam didn’t care.  Which made it all the while more confusing as to why he had just walked through Aglionby’s football field’s gate entrance.

              In classic Jurassic Park style, Aglionby had spared no expense when it came to the celebrated sports arena.  Rich people had to feel above everyone else in everything, it seemed.  The entrance gate was an arched brick structure with ticket booths inside each side tower and large iron gates, beautifully shaped, opened inward invitingly.  On the arch were the words “Blue Gate” to signify which of the three – yes, three – entrances one was entering.  The walkway from the gates was nicely paved and clean; litter, apparently, was exclusive to the poor.  There were posh plants lining the sides and then you encountered the beginning of concessions and merchandise selling booths.  Adam didn’t know exactly how many people the stadium held but he figured it was close to a lot.  It was no college or NFL stadium, but it outshined a public high school’s stadium in every way.

              Though they still had bleachers.  Adam couldn’t figure it out, but somehow the metal benches still managed to seem of higher class.

              There was an abundance of seats available as he supposed he was relatively early; he didn’t really know the standard timetable for arrival times.  He walked slowly around, not quite sure what he was to do.  He pawed at the feeble bills in his pocket, just enough to buy a drink if he were truly about to die of dehydration, and thanked whatever deity there was that he hadn’t had to pay admittance since he was a student.  He probably wouldn’t have come if he had.  He shouldn’t have come.  Why was he here again?

              Gansey had invited him.  Of course.  All American, perfect student, carefree Gansey who had quit the rowing team in disinterest and joined the football team in curiosity and still managed to make starting quarterback despite it being his first year on the team.  Adam wasn’t sure if that was even allowed but Gansey always pulled off the impossible.

              For example, persuading Ronan to join the team.  If asked of his school spirit and involvement, anyone who knew or knew of Ronan would laugh straight in the asker’s face.  Ronan was not a team player.  Ronan was not a regular school attendee.  But of course being on the team required a certain GPA and since joining, he somehow maintained it, if barely. This, Adam suspected, was part of the reason Gansey had wanted him on the team in the first place.

              Adam was going to run out of seats soon but he still did not know where to sit.  Were there seats where people sat regularly?  Did people have regular seats?  He heard something like that happening in church; unofficial seating charts.  What if he sat in someone’s seat?  God, he should’ve stayed home and studied for his Biology test tomorrow.  He was wholly unprepared and he needed the good grades.  But Gansey had looked so eager when he’d asked if Adam would be there for his first game.  He’d tried to seem off-put, tried to be President Cell Phone – a name Blue had shared with Adam – like Adam could come if he were available but if he wasn’t it’d be okay, but Adam could see how much he wanted him to be there.

              So here he was, unstudied in Biology and fretting with seatlessness.

              “Adam?” 

              For a heart stopping moment, Adam thought it was the voice of a fellow student about to make a comment that they thought was politely put and in good taste but was actually horribly demeaning.  But when he turned, gentle curls, round eyes, and a smile to light up the planet greeted him to the presence of Matthew Lynch.

              By turning, Adam had allowed Matthew to confirm that it was in fact him and he called again, “Adam!  Here, come sit with me!”  Adam sighed at the relief of a seat without worries. 

              During his wandering, more people had filed into the stadium and Adam had to swerve through a slight crowd to reach the youngest Lynch brother.  He slid into the seat beside him, hearing ear to Matthew.  “Hi.”

              Matthew continued to beam.  “I’m so glad you’re here.  It’s nice to see you out and about.”

              Adam lifted one shoulder in a half hearted response to something he didn’t like to be reminded about.  Matthew did not say anything more about it, one of the reasons Adam loved being in the presence of Matthew.  “I’ve never actually been to a football game before.”  He admitted, watching people file into seats around them.  “I’ve watched a few on TV but those were normally with my dad.”

              Matthew, again, didn’t push it.  “It’s different live.  There’s more energy; you can feel it in your gut, tingling out to your fingertips with the excitement and the need to do _something_ to express your unexplainable excitement.”

              Adam didn’t reply.  People filed in, Matthew chatted happily at Adam and at the people around him, and then was quiet as the band played the national anthem.  Matthew had left a jacket on the seat on the other side of him.  As everyone began to sit after the anthem, Declan handed the jacket to Matthew as he slid into the seat.

              “Just in time for the game to start,” Matthew commented.  Declan lifted one shoulder like Adam had done earlier and Adam made a conscious decision never to do it again.

              The team ran in to the band playing and the cheerleaders cheering and the crowd screaming.  Adam had stood with everyone else so he fit in but he just clapped when others yelled.  He felt out of place even as he tried to be casual.  Not a fish out of water, a fish pretending to be a cat.

              The other team was from out of state and, from what Matthew said, not a challenge for the Aglionby team.  It was a perfect first game team, Adam learned, as it warmed our team up but still allowed a win.

              The announcer introduced the captains onto the field to go for the coin toss and Adam was not surprised when Gansey was one of them.  Honestly, he didn’t know much about football but there was no way that was normal.

              As the game progressed, Adam felt increasingly ill at place.  Everyone else, everyone around him seemed perfectly fit into this football world.  Like one of the Ganseys’ parties, there was a language, a code of conduct, and he could do nothing but imitate others and hoped it looked genuine.  He hadn’t considered the style of watching live football before but now he was thrust into it.  Matthew was his saving grace, chatting cheerfully beside him, directly into his hearing ear, wiping off statistics and facts and just generally commentating on the game.  It helped him block out the rest.

              Aglionby won.  Given what Matthew had introduced to him about the other team, Adam was not surprised.

              After the team had left the field and most of the audience had cleared the seats trying to beat the traffic by all rushing to their cars, Matthew pulled on Adam’s sleeve once to tell him to follow without forcing him.  Declan left with everyone else.  Matthew led Adam to the weight and locker rooms; a large brick building at the end of the field.  Adam wasn’t sure they were allowed in but Matthew strode in with a confidence Adam tried to imitate. 

              Most of the team had left or were leaving and players in casual wear passed them in the hall.  Tad Curruthers shouted a greeting and Adam lifted a hand in reply.  Gansey met them just as they reached the door to the locker room, changed with a duffel bag hanging in his hand.  He looked infuriatingly perfectly put together.

              “Matthew,” he said in surprise, and then, because Adam had been walking behind Matthew, “Adam.”  An uninhibited smile broke out on Gansey’s face.  “I’m so glad you could make it.”

              “Ah, Parrish wouldn’t miss it for the world,” a voice said mockingly before Ronan appeared in the door.  He had on only his football pants and Adam was trying very hard to ignore that fact.  To Adam, he said, “Don’t you have a test to study for?  The process of mitosis isn’t going to learn itself.”

              “The test’s on ecology.”  Adam tried not to be impressed that Ronan remembered his test was in biology.  Ronan showed his classic mix of a smirk and a sneer.  Adam turned to Gansey.  “You wanted me to be here.  And it was fun.”

              Gansey beamed.  Ronan lifted a leg.  “Do you think these pants make me look cool?”  He glared at them and Adam didn’t know how anyone could hate them when they looked that good.

              “They make you look like a loser.”  Ronan looked pleased in his own Ronan way and left the doorway to go change, presumably.  Matthew walked passed Gansey with a smile and an “excuse me” and followed his brother, their voices disappearing.

              There was a call but it came from his deaf side so it was muffled from the distortion of his head to his other ear.  He turned just in time to see Blue hurl a water bottle passed his head at Gansey, who ducked out of the way.  “That was not at all what you said it would be like!  ‘It’ll be fun, Jane.’  ‘You’ll have an on field view to my game, Jane.’  I have never been so engulfed by sweaty males in my entire life and I never want to be again.”  Gansey was upright again and Blue had finally strode enough on her short legs to reach them.  She stood on his toes to bump her nose against his; their version of a kiss.  “Your ass looks great in those pants though so I may forgive you.  But you’re still a bastard.”

              She hugged Adam and said how great it was he had come and then she and Gansey started talking again.  Adam took this time to slip out the way he and Matthew had come, trekking back to where he had parked the Hondayota.  The night was cool and quiet only ruined by Adam’s fretting over his grades.  His friends, at least, drowned out the noise of his troubles.  It was when he was alone that the true horrors set in.

              Adam had his shitty car in sight, fumbling for his keys in his pocket, when something quiet and muffled broke the silence of the night.  He paused.  Was Cabeswater trying to talk to him?  Give him a new way to assist it?  But no, there was the sound again, not in his deaf ear but in the other, louder now.  He recognized it as his name.  He turned.

              Duffel bag slipped over one shoulder casually, Ronan approached.  “Jesus Christ, you book it for a starving kid.”  It occurred to Adam that Ronan would have had to at least solidly jog to catch up to him with his head start.  When Adam didn’t reply, just stare, Ronan clapped him on the shoulder, pushing him to walk toward his car again.  “Blue’s going back to Monmouth with Gansey and I don’t want to be there for that shit and Matthew wanted to take the BMW for a spin so I’m crashing at your place and using you as a ride.”

              It sounded like bullshit.  It probably was bullshit.  But it wasn’t the first time Ronan had spent the night at St. Agnes and Adam was too tired to really care.

              On the interstate, air roared through the open windows.  Accompanied by the Hondayota’s growling engine, the noise was annoying but closing the windows meant dealing with the caged in stink of Ronan’s sweaty football gear.  When they reached the church, Adam made him leave it in the car.

              “My apartment smells as is; it doesn’t need your sweaty gear to help it.”  Ronan had grumbled but dealt with it.

              Inside, Ronan got in the shower while Adam pulled out his Biology book.  He skimmed the chapters, hoping he knew all that he needed to know for it already.  When Ronan exited the bathroom and plopped onto his permanent makeshift bed at the end of Adam’s twin mattress, Adam studied his movements, picking at the frayed pages of his text book.  Was theirs a mutualistic relationship?  Or commensalistic, only beneficial to one?  Sometimes it felt more like parasitism, Ronan draining his time and energy to satisfy his needs while Adam was left feeling empty and unprepared.  But no, that wasn’t true; Adam always gained something from their interactions, sometimes it was insights into who Ronan was, sometimes it was a break from the stress of life, sometimes it was simply more confusion.

              Adam put the bio book away.  He figured when you started applying ecology to your relationships, it was time to go to bed.

              Post shower, he slipped into his sheets and switched off his shitty weak lamp on his cardboard nightstand.  In the darkness of the apartment, Adam heard Ronan shift in his blanket, take a deep breath, and then ask, “Have fun?”

              He was referring to the game, of course, and he said it in a way that was snarky and patronizing, but also in a way that sounded as if he wanted it to be snarky and patronizing but instead was genuine.  As a quiet observer as well as a careful liar, Adam could tell the difference.

              “Unfortunately,” he replied after a moment, listening carefully to the reaction on the floor. “It seems I’m gonna have to go next week too.”

              But Ronan made no sound except a rush of air out his nose and then he was silent until Adam fell into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

              The second game of the season was a more challenging one, Matthew informed Adam when he sat beside the youngest Lynch.  Unlike last week’s, the team had a skill to match Aglionby’s.  Where the first had been a warm up, the second was a crash course.  Equally matched, the teams fought on field for any points they could get.  The audience roared at any play that gained them more than fifteen yards, screamed at the refs for unfair calls, laughed as those around them made crude jokes about the other team.  Tension, not a cruel kind, crackled through the air.  Adam felt energy buzz throughout his body, passed from the packed bodies of others. It felt similar to when he connected to Cabeswater.  He could almost feel the appeal.

              Still, he was not a part of the crowd, not one of the fans in the sense that the roaring people were.  Matthew was, smiling beside him, dimples deep as he cheered on his brother.  Declan at least was in the same boat.  He was a quiet observer, clapping every so often at a good play.  Still, he looked more ingrained than Adam felt.  Money provided a confidence and comfort in all things.

              “Ronan’s been trash talking this team all week,” Matthew called above the yell of the crowd, despite Adam being right next to him.  “Talked about taking them out and all that nonsense.”

              “Hm,” responded Adam as if he understood the significance of it all.  Blue would say it was just all aggression and testosterone.  Blue was probably right.

              When Ronan was tackled and lost the ball at that moment, Adam only found it somewhat ironic.  Matthew sucked in air fast between his teeth as Ronan rolled with his tackler but Adam was less concerned.  Ronan had taken worse from Robert Parrish the night he’d defended Adam, taken worse from Declan on a bad day, taken worse from his own mind.  What was one teenage tackle?

              As expected, Ronan sprang up, in no discreet way flipped off his opponent, and tossed his lost ball to the closest referee.  Matthew let his sucked in air lose.  Adam took one of Matthew’s nachos.

              The game progressed as before.  A play finished, Blue ran out with carriers and rehydrated the players.  Even from this distance, Adam could see her displeasure with the Aglionby players and, undoubtedly, their smell.  She looked less displeased when Ronan reached her, grazing their knuckles in greeting and thanks.  Her displeasure crumbled when she reached Gansey and, after downing a bottle, he brushed her arm affectionately as he ran off.  She watched him go and then returned to the sideline.

              It didn’t bother Adam like it had before, Gansey and Blue.  Blue and Gansey.  It had stung, at first, but when he saw how they looked at each other; how could he stay bitter?  With retrospect, he could see how they – he and Blue – hadn’t worked.  It wasn’t that they didn’t care about each other, their personalities just hadn’t matched right; they couldn’t understand the other.  They could understand each other more now but it was better this way.  He’d accepted that.

              When Blue was out of his vision Adam found Ronan again, startled to see him looking back.

              Despite apparent popular belief – or rather as he was beginning to learn, just his father’s belief – Adam _wasn’t_ an idiot and _could_ observe the world around him.  He knew Ronan had a crush on him.  He’d known this for a little while.  That simple fact made him powerful and worth something at the same time that he felt powerless and worthless.  Ronan Lynch, rich beyond belief (or more likely Adam’s belief) and more badass than anyone could ever hope to be; with a demeaning smile he gave to everyone he met, liked Adam Parrish.  Poor, worthless Adam Parrish. Beaten by his father and now out on his own with less hope of a future than he’d care to admit.  He was worth something, at least to someone.  The only problem was he just didn’t know if he could return the feelings.  He didn’t know if he had the time to.

              Ronan was a person of commitment.  He hated Declan for, among other things, dancing constantly among partners; always having someone different on his arm.  The noncommittal way he flirted with people just to do the same to someone else the next day.  He didn’t understand the appeal of one night stands or halfhearted relationships.  Ronan Lynch threw himself wholeheartedly into whatever he thought mattered.  Adam couldn’t jump in for an experimental splash and decide the water wasn’t right and leave. He needed to decide he wanted to swim before he got in.  Dedicate. Ronan deserved better than a halfhearted attempt.  ‘ _Don’t play if you don’t know,’_ he’d told himself.  Ronan deserved steadfast devotion and attention.  Ronan deserved the whole world.

              Adam didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about this.

              So of course it would be the very game that Adam had convinced himself Ronan had taken worse for Ronan to hurt himself.

              The game was neck and neck with 45 seconds on the clock and Aglionby had the ball.  The players spread out, Ronan coming out from the others to a place he could run from.  Someone snapped the ball to Gansey, Ronan bolted, a defendant immediately on his tail.  Gansey had no better options and threw the ball with a linesman headed for him. It flew towards Ronan in what seemed like slow motion, the spin beautiful if not a little bit wobbly.  It hit Ronan’s hands the same moment his opponent hit him.  His foot twisted beneath him as he was taken down and the ball slipped from his grip.

              _Of course_ it would be the very game that Adam had convinced himself Ronan had taken worse for Ronan to hurt himself.

              Despite Matthew’s claim otherwise, Adam was sure he could hear Ronan’s string of curses in the stands even with all the disappointed calls from the crowd.  Maybe he’d just been around Ronan too much and his melodic word choice was simply ingrained in his mind.  In any case, a sports medic ran up while the other player jogged carefully to safety.  Ronan was up but keeping weight off his injured foot.  The medic offered an arm and shoulder but in typical Lynch fashion, he chose instead to limp stubbornly off the field to a scattered chorus of applause, looking incredibly upset about the whole ordeal.  He threw his helmet down as he propped his foot up to be checked.

              Somewhere along this string of events, Matthew had reached over to grip tightly at Adam’s arm.  He noticed it only when he was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers.  When he looked to Declan on Matthew’s other side, he was in the same situation. His hand, however, was probably already numb by the look of his tightly clenched hand to notice Matthew’s grip.  Ronan’s flippant and visibly vulgar attitude, signaling his good health, was probably the only reason Matthew hadn’t dragged them to the field in record time.

              Aglionby won the game by a field goal kicked expertly by Tad Curruthers.

              Afterwards, they pushed through the crowd to get down to the field.  When they reached the gate, Declan had disappeared.  Ronan was on a bench with bags of ice encompassing his propped foot on a chair.  Matthew practically flew to hug him and Ronan only looked slightly disgruntled by the action.  Adam strolled up more casually.  As an unfortunate expert on injuries, he inspected Ronan’s.

              “Could’ve been worse,” Adam concluded as he replaced the ice to its place.

              Matthew finally let go of Ronan to stand up straight.  “Thanks, doc.  Tell me more.”  Ronan’s eyebrows were pulled down in a furious line, though he seemed angrier at the injury than at Adam.

              “Well, you could’ve sprained it or seriously torn a muscle in that twist or you could have broken your ankle from the angle with the additional weight of your tackler.  Could’ve put you up for weeks.”

              “Parrish, I don’t know if you know of something called sarcasm,” Lynch said, “but I don’t actually give a shit.”

              “Be nice,” Matthew scolded.  He apparently didn’t read the non-anger at Adam that Adam could read.  Which was strange as Matthew was, well, Matthew.  Maybe Ronan had a certain non-angry angry that he only used with Adam; a special tone of angry.

              Adam shrugged.  “Just trying to make you see the brighter side of things.”

              “Still don’t give a shit.”

              A medic appeared.  She advised that he try to keep weight off his foot and continue to ice it when he could or when it hurt and to keep it wrapped.  She told all this to Adam and Matthew as she seemed to have picked up that Ronan wouldn’t do any of this without prompting and outright demanding.  She gave them the cloth for wrapping and another bag of ice and left them to deal with the snarling teenager alone.

              Removing Ronan from the stadium proved to be a feat all its own.  Both Adam and Matthew refused to let Ronan walk, much to his chagrin, and so they sandwiched him between them and half-carried him out.  At one point, Matthew went ahead to bring a car back around so they wouldn’t have to trek so far.  This, of course, meant Adam was alone holding Ronan up. He was heavier than he seemed and when he’d finally acknowledged the fact they wouldn’t let him walk, Ronan had become an absolute nuisance to support.  Adam finally gave up trying to move him along and just stood to wait for Matthew.  Ronan continued to vigorously curse under his breath.

              When Matthew dropped Adam off at his car, Adam half expected Ronan to come with him or to tell Matthew to follow the Hondayota to Adam’s apartment.  When Ronan just grunted in agreement to Matthew’s called goodnight, they drove off and Adam felt strangely alone.  Had he thought Ronan spending the night after a game would become a thing?  Something special they did?  Another niche in their relationship to separate themselves from their group friendship?

              ‘ _It’d only been one game, Adam.  He only did that that one time.  It’s no big deal.’_ he thought.

               Adam needed to get his head together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy thanksgiving!

              At the third game, the coach wouldn’t let Ronan play.  He could walk on his ankle now and had attended practice throughout the week, though limited, but the coach didn’t want to strain his ankle too early.  So he was benched.  Matthew had moved their usual seating to sit behind the home team, slightly elevated, so they could talk to his brother while he was condemned to sit out.

              “This is absolute bullshit,” Ronan snarled as the game progressed before his eyes without him.

              “Language,” Declan snapped.

              Ronan turned his head to sneer up at his older brother, eyes gleaming with anger and distaste.  “What the fuck for?”

              “We’re in a decently populated area; you could show some decency to the people around you.  At least to your coaches and teammates.”

              Ronan looked to the people around him and turned back to his brother.  “What are they gonna do?  Bench me?”  He laughed sharply, a short _ha_ , and was quiet for a moment while a play played out on field.  When Aglionby tackled the opposing runner and the crowd cheered, he turned back.  “What the hell are you even doing here?”  This was directed at Declan.

              “I ask myself that every fucking week.”

              “Language,” Ronan snapped, teeth sharp.

              Declan started to show his when Matthew whined, “Please.”  They both shut up.  Ronan turned around.  Declan rubbed his nose.  Adam marveled at Matthew’s power.

              The team had run in for a timeout called by the visitors.  Huddled too far away to hear what the coach was saying, Adam could see Blue weaving between them, passing out and taking back bottles.  When the team dispersed, she made her way to them, plopping dramatically on the bench beside Ronan.

              “Hey Adam,” she greeted over her shoulder.  He smiled at her.  “Lynches.”  Declan politely acknowledged the greeting with a nod while Matthew waved enthusiastically, smile glued to his face.

              “Can I help you, maggot?”

              “Just wanted to keep you company, giraffe.”  Ronan raised his eyebrow at her in a clear meaning of _what the fuck?_ “I’m trying out nicknames.  It’s not like it’s not appropriate.”  She stretched out her leg beside Ronan’s propped up ones, providing a visual for the clear length difference.  He still did not look enthused.  “Okay, how about stick?  Bean pole?”

              “Sargent – ”

              “Ah!” Blue snapped her fingers.  “Daddy Long Legs.”

              Declan spat out his drink.  Adam choked on his breath.  Ronan looked like he was somewhere between murder and laughter, the edges of his mouth straining.  “That is the worst thing I have ever heard.”

              “Think about it.”  Blue wiggled her eyebrows in Ronan’s direction.

              Loud cheering snapped their attention back to the field as Gansey made a gallant run to the end zone.  Twenty yards away, a defenseman tackled him.  Blue cracked her fingers.  “Duty calls.”  She affectionately shoved Ronan’s shoulder before she left.

              A touchdown and field goal later, Declan and Matthew dismissed themselves to fight through the crowds to the bathroom.  Adam sat quietly alone on the bleacher, watching the game, for a few minutes before Ronan sighed and stood up from his bench.  From his standing position, hands resting lightly on his hips, he watched the game for a minute and then sighed again, turning around to Adam.  Adam looked down at him patiently, waiting, always waiting, never instigating. 

              Ronan held his gaze before blowing air out of his nostrils and leaning his head against the chain-link fence.  “Just antsy, man.”  It sounded like an answer to an unasked question.  Adam did not expect this, whatever this was.  A confession of sorts?  It didn’t seem like some secret.  The confession – if it was one – made sense; Ronan was a hot blood creature, seeking thrills and adventure and action, always go, go, go.  Sitting on the bench was not his nature.

              Adam extended a branch.  “If you want,” he said deliberately, carefully neutral.  Casual.  “After the game, we can find an empty parking lot and speed around.  Do some donuts.”  Immediately his brain started going through his bullet-pointed schedule; homework, project, work, homework.  He quieted that part of his brain and instead opted to listen to the part of his brain that remembered the cool kiss of night air whipping through the rolled down window, the thrum of the engine like a heartbeat under his skin.  The glow of Ronan’s eyes in the night.  He’d find the time for homework; he always did.

              Ronan immediately perked.  Raising his head from the fence, he looked at Adam again.  “Yeah,” he said, sounding relieved, “sounds cool.”

              The appearance of Matthew and Declan drew Adam’s attention and when he turned back to the field, Ronan had dropped back to the bench.

              -

              They won.  Declan left with the crowd.  Matthew asked Ronan if he wanted to go out for milkshakes.  “Next time,” Ronan declined.  “Got plans.”  Matthew glanced at Adam, who deliberately did not look at Ronan, and smiled, bidding them goodnight.  Ronan left to change.

              Adam waited at the entrance/exit of the locker and weight building, looking in the direction of the parking lot.  Without Matthew to imitate, he could not find the confidence to stride in.  Something came to rest on his left shoulder and he jumped, head whipping to see Blue and Gansey, the latter’s hand being what startled him.  Adam became instantly annoyed with his own jumpiness. 

              “You idiot,” Blue scolded Gansey, “You came up on his deaf side.”

              Gansey apologized, looking sheepish.  “Sorry, Adam, I wasn’t thinking.”

              Adam just shrugged, trying to play it off.  He was still coming to terms with his own deafness, still trying to cope with this new aspect of his life; he didn’t need surrounding pity to add to it.

              “Like you ever do,” Blue’s remark was full of affection; she twined their fingers together.  “We’re heading out.” This was directed to Adam.  “See you tomorrow?”

              “We’re going hiking,” Gansey reminded.

              “Yeah.  Yeah, after work.  Meet you at Monmouth?”

              Gansey beamed, nodded, and bumped his fist with Adam’s.  The pair walked off.

              Ronan joined him at the entrance a moment later, making ample noise down the hall to signal Adam to his presence.  “Alright, Parrish, let’s donut it up!  Leave the Hondayota, we’re taking the BMW; we’ll come back for your shitbox.”  _Homework_ , his brain whispered, but he shoved it away and followed him out to the parking lot.

              -

              This was not exactly what Adam had meant.  During the ride, he’d let his exhaustion take over for a moment and he spaced out, connecting momentarily with Cabeswater, letting it support him.  Brought back by the car being put into park, the first thing he noticed was a severe lack of abandoned parking lot but not a lack of donuts, though.

              “I meant car donuts.  In the car.  Making donuts.”  Regardless, he got out of the car and followed Ronan into Dunkin’ Donuts at eleven fifteen p.m.

              Ronan grinned over his shoulder.  “We’ll get there.  I want to eat a donut while doing donuts.  Surprisingly, I haven’t done it before.  I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it.”

              And so, at eleven twenty five p.m., Adam found himself in an old gas station parking lot, being swung by the BMW, half a sprinkled donut in his mouth.  He didn’t actually see the point of the donut squared situation but Ronan seemed to be pleased so he went with it.

              Speaking of Ronan, Adam couldn’t keep his eyes off him, embarrassing as it was.  Ronan, both hands on the wheel, donut held firmly between his teeth, occasionally yelling excitedly around it, looked like a king among men.  No, king was a word too specific to Gansey in his mind.  God was better.  Behind the wheel, no one could touch him.  He was invincible.

              Ronan finished his donut before he stopped the car, shifting it into park.  He licked the sugar coat off his fingers, an act Adam found himself significantly distracted by.  “Alright, Parrish.”  Adam’s eyes snapped back to Ronan’s.  “Your turn.”

              Despite having driven the BMW before, Adam still wasn’t sure he felt he belonged behind its wheel.  This car was so essentially Ronan, it was strange that something else could inhabit the driver’s seat.  Ronan did not seemed bothered, sliding comfortably into the passenger seat and gripping the roof out the window with one hand and holding the box of donuts in the other.  Adam put the car in drive, turned the wheel, and hit the gas.

              There was something so basically exhilarating about the power of a car.  It was something that, when viewed without bias, seemed simple and unexciting, unstimulating.  Driving.  But when the pedal grinded the floor, you could fly.  Wind through his hair, the vibration of the wheel from the engine moving a current from his finger tips to every nerve ending, the heat of Ronan’s eyes on him. 

              Ronan’s eyes.

              When Adam glanced to the right, Ronan’s eyes were on the wheel.  Or rather, Adam’s hands on the wheel.  He looked contemplative at the same time he looked longing.  Adam looked back out the windshield and pretended he hadn’t looked at all.

              “Lynch,” he called, feeling the need to speak louder due to the whip of the wind.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ronan redirect his gaze to Adam’s face.  “Donut.”

              Ronan hesitated for only a moment.  “Flavor?”

              “Cream filled.  Chocolate icing.”

              Ronan grabbed the donut out of the box, body bouncing a little more as he required two hands and thus lost his stabilizing grip.  He extended the donut, waiting for Adam to grab it.  Adam, instead, used both hands to redirect the car and opened his mouth expectantly.

              _Don’t play_ , his brain whispered.  He didn’t know if he was.  Adrenaline amplified everything.

              Ronan paused.  Time seemed to slow.  Adam thought he heard him take a breath.  Ronan put the donut between Adam’s teeth.  Adam took a bite.  Ronan pulled back.  Time continued. 

              The donut was good but Adam hardly registered it.  The thrumming from the wheel seemed more now, something more.  It beat in time with his racing pulse, pushing all thoughts from his mind except drive.  And Ronan.  Ronan was harder to push from his thoughts.

              He swallowed and opened his mouth again.  This time, Ronan didn’t pause.  He raised the donut and Adam took a bite, cream oozing from the dough, missing his mouth and going down his chin.  Ronan retracted the donut, but his eyes fixed on the cream.  Adam relaxed his foot, slowing the car.  Ronan half raised his free hand, paused, and then fully extended it, swiping his thumb and cleaning the cream from Adam’s chin.  Adam removed his foot, added pressure to the brake, and the car eventually stopped. 

              Adam watched Ronan look at the cream on his thumb.  For a moment, Adam swore it looked as if Ronan were going to lick it off, then he simply grabbed a tissue and wiped it off.  “Slob,” he threw at Adam, not unkind.  Suddenly, Adam felt very tired; nothing he was thinking made any sense anymore.

              _Homework,_ his brain thought and it grounded him.  He rubbed his eye.  “Let’s go,” he yawned.

              “Agreed.”

              Ronan handed him the doughnut box as they switched sides and Adam found himself overtly aware of their brushed hands in the trade.  He needed sleep.  He needed to calm down.

              He held the box tight as they drove, suddenly self-conscious.  He gazed out the window as Ronan put on his shitty music.  Something babbled in his deaf ear; Cabeswater, reaching out.  He reached back, feeling the brush of leaves on his cheek, the scent of fertile dirt.  _Sleep_ , Cabeswater said when it felt his exhaustion.  _Homework_ , his brain replied.  He reached back and then fell unconscious.

-

              Adam woke with a start.  He sat up slowly, heart pounding as his consciousness caught up with his body.  His apartment, he was in his apartment.  The rough scrape of his jeans told him he was still in yesterday’s clothing.  Ronan was asleep on the floor, earbuds wrapped around his body where they’d fallen out and tangled after he’d fallen asleep.  Adam did not know how he’d gotten here.  Panicked, he suddenly remembered work and the consequences that would follow should he be late, but a quick flick to the clock told him he still had time.  He got out of bed and into the shower.

              When he emerged, hair still damp but dressed, Ronan was up and eating toast.  He slid a paper plate over to Adam, a peanut butter slathered piece sitting on it.  Adam picked up the plate and crunched into the toast, sitting down to pull on his work shoes as he swallowed and shoved the rest of the food down.  “So,” Adam started as he headed for the door, feeling only slightly awkward.  “I’m off at 4, so I can meet you guys to go hiking or whatever Glendower search we are doing today.  I’ll call Gansey or Blue from work whenever I’m off.”  He opened his door.  He did not see his car.  He stopped.

              Ronan came up behind him, shutting the door, locking it, and bumping Adam’s shoulder with his own.  “Yeah, I’m your ride, let’s go.”  He started down the stairs, pulling keys from his pocket.

              “Lynch,” Adam started after him.  “Where is my car?”

              “I’m assuming still back at school where we left it cause no one would steal that shitbox.”

              “Okay.”  Ronan unlocked the car.  Adam got in.  “What did I miss?”

              “I don’t know, man, you just fell asleep in the car last night and fuck all if I was gonna put you in a car to drive yourself home,”  Ronan started the car and casually did not look at Adam.  “You were passed out.  So I just drove you home.”

              As Ronan pulled out and peeled down the road, Adam took a moment to wonder how Ronan knew which job he was working this morning.  A thought occurred, a lapse in the story.  “How did I get into bed?”

              Ronan did not respond.

              “Did you carry me inside?”

              Ronan’s eyes were trained hard on the road.

              “Holy shit.”  Adam felt his mouth strain into an uninhibited smile.  “Oh my god.”

              “Listen, shithead.”  Sounding defensive, Ronan took a hard right.  “It’s not like I just bridal styled you in just fucking cause, okay, you were  so far fucking gone I couldn’t wake you up so maybe sleep more and take care of yourself and then I don’t have to fucking carry you inside.  Shit damn, Parrish.”

              Adam could not believe how incredibly hilarious he found this.  Though the whole falling deep into sleep and not being able to be woken kind of worried him, but he’d worry about it later.  Now, all that mattered was the embarrassed brushing of pink across his driver’s face.  Adam wisely kept quiet through the rest of the ride but his smile persisted.

              As Adam got out of the car, he leaned back in to ask, sweetly, “Aren’t you going to carry me inside?”

              “Fuck off,” Ronan said, but the blushing was back.  Ronan gave him the bird as he drove off.  Adam couldn’t stop smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

              The next Tuesday, Gansey rallied them all to the idea of exploring more of Cabeswater.  The only problem was an unavoidable practice after school.  It wouldn’t take long, Gansey had assured; they could all just wait and then ride out together from Aglionby.

              And so, Adam was waiting.  But, ever busy, he didn’t have the luxury of a simple rest while he waited.  So as he sat in the bleachers, his math text was spread out on his lap, and he scribbled trigonometry answers to the sound of the coach yelling.

              Every so often, he would be distracted by the chaos below him and watch the practice as he did now.  He found Gansey surrounded by laughing teammates as he tried to politely slip away to where Blue was approaching him with a bottle.  She’d biked over after school and Adam promised to store her bike in his car when they took the Pig to Cabeswater.

              When he found Ronan, he was downing a bottle of water and tossed it to the sideline when he was done.  He was surrounded by no one, carefully isolated from others by his cruel smile and personality.  When he saw Adam looking at him, he jogged over to the fence preventing fans from jumping to the field.  For a moment they just stared at each other, silent except for Ronan’s quiet pants.  Finally, he reached up and locked his fingers into the chain link.  “You could’ve just gone home.”

              Adam considered this, gaze stuck on Ronan’s fingers in the fence.  “Didn’t want to waste the gas.”

              “You’re going to be driving home later anyway.”

              “I was hoping you’d carry me.”  Adam knew he probably shouldn’t push but the situation still caused a light feeling in his chest.  He held back the smile trying to break onto his face.

              “Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan’s grip on the fence tightened.  His body language, approximately ninety percent of Ronan’s conversations, suggested he was anxious, possibly embarrassed.  Adam didn’t see why.  “See if I ever do anything nice for you again.”  He looked like he was going to go.

              Adam did not want him to go.  “I appreciate it.”  Ronan looked at him.  “I didn’t say it so I guess, thanks.”

              Ronan did not say “You’re welcome.”  Ronan never said, “You’re welcome.”  Instead, he stared at Adam and said, “Any leads on searching Cabeswater today?  Has it spoken to you about Glendower at all?”

              He shrugged.  “About as much as it’s said to you.”  _So nothing_ , went unsaid.

              Nodding, Ronan glanced over his shoulder at his faraway teammates.  He did not say anything; tightening his grip on the fence again, the metal clinked.  He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.  Or didn’t.

             Running a hand through his hair, Adam studied Ronan’s profile, the way his body appeared relaxed, nonchalant, but hid an underlying tension.  What did it mean that he could read Ronan’s language so well?  Was it time or practice or devotion?  He tapped his pencil on his book.

             “You left your tank at my place over the weekend,” he said just to say something.  He didn’t add _This weekend in which you carried me from the car_ , but he thought it.  “I found it this morning.” 

             “Your place is how small and you just now found it?”

             Adam shrugged.  “I’m a busy guy.  Just come pick it up sometime.  Or I can just bring it tomorrow.”

             Ronan snorted but whatever tension was lying under his skin calmed.  “Whatever, man.”  He turned his head as a coach called them back from the short break they’d been allowed.  Turning back to Adam, he rubbed his head, flicking sweat in Adam’s direction with a smirk before turning and jogging back, putting his helmet back on as he went.

              The temperature dropped.  Shuddering, Adam felt drained and when he turned he saw Noah perched beside him.

              “Sorry,” Noah said, though Adam didn’t know if it was for making him cold or startling him.

              “Long time no see,” Adam greeted.

              “It’s been . . . harder,” he looked concentrated.  “I don’t know why.”

              “It’s nice to see you now, at least.  Are you going to come with us to Cabeswater later?  I know Blue would love it if you did.”

              At the mention of Blue, Noah brightened figuratively but Adam was almost sure he brightened physically too.  “I’ll try.”

              Adam attempted to work on more homework, Noah peering over his shoulder and commenting.  Eventually, he just kind of gave up as Noah began to babble excitedly beside him like he needed to make up for his absence as of late.  Stopping midsentence, Noah broke Adam’s gaze and pointed.  When he turned, Adam saw Ronan standing on the field, changed into regular clothes and his duffel slung over his shoulder.  When had practice ended?  It occurred to Adam that Ronan had probably been yelling his name.   Gansey and Blue were farther off, waiting.

              “Coming!” he yelled, turning back to gather his things.   Noah was gone.

              As Adam walked the bleachers, Ronan stayed where he was on the field, waiting; waiting and watching him walk.  He was too concentrated on Adam to notice Blue running up behind him.  Leaping through the air, she latched onto him, Ronan jolting forward with the impact.

              “Mother fucking piece of _shit_ , Sargent!”  He spat even as his arms came immediately around and under her legs to support them.  His cursing sounded like a melodic line.

              “To Cabeswater!” Blue proclaimed, pointing to the parking lot.  Gansey couldn’t stop laughing.  Adam had caught up during this whole debacle and now he and Ronan walked in parallel.

              “Is Noah coming?” Blue called up from Ronan’s back.  “I saw him with you.”

              “He said he was gonna try.”

              She looked pleased.  Noah’s presence had been spotty as of late and the group felt generally imbalanced.  Reaching Gansey, they headed to the parking lot as a cluster, Blue chatting cheerfully with Gansey while towering over him.

              When Ronan plopped Blue beside the Pig, she immediately slid into the passenger seat.

              “Sargent,” Ronan started, stiff.  “I’m shotgun.”

              “Parents in the front,” Blue responded, easy, bending the seat and herself, creating a path to the back.  “Kids in the back.”

              “Maggot –”

              Gansey slid into the driver’s seat.  “Listen to your mother.”

              Thus, Adam slid into the backseat.  Ronan followed a moment later but not without a string of profanities and an angry huff as he threw himself down.  “Bullshit,” he said after the Pig started rolling with some significant encouragement on Gansey’s part.  “Two longest pairs of legs crammed in the back.”

              “Don’t backtalk your mother,” Blue said, looking incredibly pleased.  Gansey glowed.  Ronan kicked her seat.

              Noah appeared then, flickering into existence on Adam’s other side.  The Pig got colder.  Adam shuffled over to provide Noah with more room, leg pressing against Ronan’s.  It was, he noticed, very warm. 

              “Noah!” Blue greeted him, voice oozing with warmth and affection as she turned in her seat to look back at him.  “I’m so glad you’re here!”

              Being crammed in the Pig felt like a memory.  Recently, they’d all been scattered with their individual lives and, when meeting for Glendower, arrived by their own means.  It’d been awhile since they’d all crammed in.  It was nice.

              “Are you establishing a family dynamic without me?  I love family dynamics.”

              “Of course not,” she reassured him, reaching out to hold his hand.  “Does this make you my son?”

              “At best,” Ronan said, “Noah is the family dog that disappears for days on end.  That or the ghost that haunts our lovely home.”

              “Be nice to your brother, Ronan,” Gansey scolded, giving his best dad look through the rearview mirror.

              “My dog, you mean,” he snapped back.

              Adam found he could not concentrate on the conversation.  The press of heat from Ronan’s leg pulled his attention, distracting.  It was a simple thing, the press, the presence, but it felt charged, like he was toeing a line.  _Don’t play_ , his brain said.  Ronan was still beside him.  When Adam chanced a glance, he found him gazing out the window even as he threw back a reply to whatever Blue had said.  He looked peaceful, in a way only Ronan Lynch could look peaceful.

              Later, Adam stumbled into his apartment.  Hanging out with his friends was always something he loved but he continuously came back exhausted with much more to do.  Flicking on the light so he wouldn’t trip on his scattered clutter, Adam sat on his bed and pulled off his shoes, tossing them in the direction of the door to be scooped up and put back on tomorrow.  As he stood to move to his desk to work on some homework, his eye suddenly caught on Ronan’s permanent makeshift bed on the floor; specifically, Ronan’s forgotten tank top rumbled into a ball amongst the blankets.  On their own accord, Adam’s legs turned from their course to the desk and instead set sail for Ronan’s makeshift bed.  On its own separate accord, his hand reached down and scooped up the forgotten clothing.

              This left Adam in a weird position.  There was no one around for him to be embarrassed in front of, staring intently at this article of clothing, but a blush developed on his cheeks nonetheless.  His homework called to him from his desk but Cabeswater appeared in his head then, overshadowing the work and momentarily replacing anxiety with gentle caresses and rustling leaves, calm in a breezy wood.  His hand raised to his face, pushed by a sharp wind Adam pretended was Cabeswater.

              _Oh_ , Adam thought, _so this is happening._   He didn’t think he’d be this kind of person, the type to smell other people’s clothes, but apparently he was.  He almost felt like a creep.  But the scent embedded in the shirt – gasoline, the scent of Chainsaw, the sweet outdoorsy breeze at the Barns – was so overwhelmingly Ronan it blocked all shame which he might have developed.  The closest Adam had been to intoxicated was whatever he’d been at the Ganseys’ party but he felt pretty damn intoxicated right now.  He didn’t quite know what it all meant.  All his senses were simply _Ronan_.

              Homework whispered back into his brain and, like a shot, it brought him back to reality from whatever plane he’d just been on.  Dropping the shirt, he shook his head determinedly, politely dismissed Cabeswater so he could concentrate, and sat at his desk to work.

              However many hours later – Adam preferred not to keep track – Adam headed to bed, clad, currently, only in his own sweatpants he used for pajamas.  Reaching the bed, he noticed the shirt, Ronan’s shirt which he had dropped hours ago, had landed on his bed.  He picked it up purely with the intention of moving it as he preferred a clean bed to sleep in but paused.  He felt a leaf on his cheek.  He heard a faint whisper of homework but his homework was done so he ignored it.  As if watching someone else act, Adam put the shirt on.

              For a moment he just stood there, letting acceptance for what he’d just done sink in.  Okay.  This was happening.  Apparently he was a double creep.  A fresh wave of exhaustion hit Adam and he decided he frankly did not give a single shit and dropped, rather unceremoniously, onto the bed, wrapped himself in his blankets, and closed his eyes.  He fell asleep hard and fast, seeing the Barns and Ronan behind his lids.


	5. Chapter 5

            Adam woke gradually, coming to consciousness without opening his eyes.  His first coherent thought was that he smelled Ronan but that couldn’t be right because Ronan hadn’t spent the night.  Also, he couldn’t usually smell Ronan so potently.  Memories flooded back in.  _Ah_.  He opened his eyes.

             For a moment, Adam lay quietly, letting himself fully wake and come to terms with his current situation.  Gansey had once offhandedly referred to Adam having a scientific mind, so he now laid out the facts.  Last night he had smelled, rather deeply, Ronan’s forgotten shirt.  He had also slept through the night, rather comfortingly, in said shirt.  Instead of shame and anxiety beating his heart out of his chest and twisting his gut, he instead felt eerily calm and comforted.  The shirt was also extremely cozy, the fabric soft and moving easy against his skin.  He did not regret sleeping in this shirt.

             Usually, according to the scientific process, the facts were interpreted into some kind of conclusion, an understanding.  Adam decidedly did not want to follow through on this step.  He did not have the time to devote to analyzing his feelings for Ronan.

             Feelings for Ronan?  He didn’t have feelings for Ronan.  He didn’t have _time_ for feelings for Ronan.  He didn’t have _time_ for feelings for anybody, let alone someone who would probably demand a significant amount of work.  In any case, it wasn’t a game for him to play in.  He had his educational future to worry about.  College, money for college, food, money for food, bills, money for bills, homework, time for homework.

             His second, warning alarm began to beep.  After turning it off, rather aggressively, Adam finally rolled out of bed.  He changed into his school uniform, folding Ronan’s shirt rather mournfully and sliding it into his backpack to be returned to its owner who would hopefully never know what had occurred.  Attempting to shake the weird jibe which had washed over him, he went to school.

             Ronan gave him a surprised look when he handed over the shirt, like he’d forgotten about it entirely.  Thursday, when Adam saw him again, Ronan kept glancing back at him in classes, in the Pig, with the group, his look contemplative and curious and just different.  Never when Adam was looking, of course, but Adam had long since learned to see and interpret Ronan Looks out of the corner of his eye.  Adam didn’t know what to make of it, what had changed.

             The fourth game was an away game and so Adam found himself strangely free.  Well, not free; he was always in an endless cycle of work and homework.  He felt alone, though, sitting in his apartment after a never-ending shift, hunched over his desk.  He was getting used to the weekly cheers and screams and excitement; his apartment seemed small, quiet, dead.  Blue and Noah were having a sleepover party in the empty Monmouth and he’d been cordially invited but he had so much to catch up on.  They’d been understanding, like they always were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was continuously letting them down.

              He didn’t know – and didn’t want to know – what time it was when there was a knock on his door.  He shouldn’t have been surprised when it was Ronan but he was.  The middle Lynch silently entered, tossed his duffel bag and gear to the side, and flopped on his permanent makeshift bed, throwing his arm over his eyes.  Adam returned to his homework.

              “ _Mane comedet me iuvarent_ ,” Ronan said much later, speaking for the first time that night.

              “What?” Adam glanced up from his Latin homework, startled.

              “ _Mane comedet me iuvarent_ ,” Ronan repeated, slightly more forceful.  “Don’t mumble out wrong translations if you don’t want me to fix them.”

              Adam didn’t know he’d been mumbling.  He shut his book.

              “We lost,” Ronan said, though he hadn’t asked.

              Adam didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything.  He stood, his chair scraping the floor.  Ronan raised his arm high enough to peer at Adam under it.

              They stared at each other for a while before Adam finally said, “sorry,” though it perhaps did not sound as sincere as he had hoped.

              Ronan shrugged in response, though it was stiff, and Adam could see he was upset about the loss even if he didn’t say it.  Chewing on his wristband for a moment, eyes still boring into Adam’s, Ronan finally spoke.  “It’s probably because I didn’t have my good luck charm.”

              “You don’t believe in luck.”  His deadpan tone was placed to cover his suddenly upbeat heart rate.

              Ronan again shrugged.  “I just look at the correlations, man.”

              “Correlation doesn’t equal causation.”

              “Now you sound like Mrs. Franc,” he smirked.  Adam, still staring at him where he stood, offered him a small smile.  Ronan broke their eyes, then, turning his instead to flit around the room in a casual way which hid sincerity and nerves; Adam commonly employed the same tactic.  Wind pressed against the exposed side of the apartment, the only noise breaking the silence of the night.  When Ronan finally spoke, eyes on the ceiling, Adam had to turn his head to hear it clearly.  “Missed having you there.  It’s just not the same without you watching.  No one to show off for.”

              Adam swallowed; his mouth was cotton.  “The entire student section is there at every game.”

              “I don’t care about the student section.”

              “Henry Cheng will be heartbroken to know his cheers don’t motivate you.”  He attempted to diffuse his own jittery body by diffusing the tension.  It did not work and his stomach continued to twist.

              Ronan dropped his arm back on his eyes.  “Fuck Cheng.  Asshole’s pretentious as fuck, Parrish.”

              The tension was diffused, somewhat, but it didn’t feel right to Adam; it didn’t feel resolved.  He took the step it required him to reach Ronan’s makeshift, permanent bed and squatted at the end, so he was more level with the other boy.  Ronan again lifted his arm and when he saw Adam’s new position, he sat up, bringing them closer.  Adam awkwardly placed his hands on his knees.  Ronan stared at them.  “I’m sorry.”  This apology sounded sincere.  “I wish I could have gone to this game but I can’t afford to drive hours out of town.”

              Ronan’s eyes traveled up to Adam’s, the journey long.  “I’m not mad at you, Parrish.  Christ.  I’m not that much of an asshole.  I’m not saying I’m upset you weren’t there, I’m just saying it’s more fun when you are.  An olive branch, if you will.  I don’t expect you to drop your damn life for me.”

              Adam paused.  It suddenly dawned on him the reason he and Ronan did not fight as much as he and Gansey.  Ronan understood what Gansey could never seem to grasp: Adam needed to control his own life.  It’s all he _wanted_ out of life.  Of course, he’d given up some of that for Cabeswater, but in a sense, he was still mostly in control.  He and Ronan understood each other.  Gansey – bless him, Adam cared for him so much – wanted to magically fix Adam’s life and turn Ronan’s around for the better, making Gansey’s way the center of everything.  He wanted to bring Adam in and turn Ronan into a perfect student, a model of the young rich American.  There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with Gansey’s desires and hopes for them, but he just couldn’t grasp their views.  Ronan understood Adam needed to do it on his own or it’d haunt him his entire life.  Adam understood Ronan wasn’t going to be forced into something he wasn’t, no matter how many times Gansey bailed him out.  School, for Adam, was a routine and a way out.  School, for Ronan, was a locked cage.  But they didn’t interfere with each other’s ways.  They just understood.

              He’d never really thought about how they fit before.

              Ronan was looking at him weird and Adam realized he’d been quiet for quite some time.  Attempting to break air, he said, “I don’t think I’m that exciting at games.  I stick out from the rest of the crowd like a sore thumb.”

              “You fit in more than you think you do.”

              Adam scoffed.  “Sure.”

              “I don’t lie,” Ronan insisted, though Adam hadn’t suggested otherwise.  “You think everyone notices every tiny move you make, everything you say, every snagged piece of clothing, like you’re walking around with a magnifying glass over all your flaws.  You only feel like they’re scrutinizing you because you notice traits of theirs you don’t have and assume they are noticing your lack of that trait.  It’s Psychology 101.  It’s called projection.”

              “I didn’t know you’d actually attended Psychology.”

              Ronan let out a string of curses, a steady and quiet flow of air.  It sounded more like a prayer than an insult, a hymn.  He paused for breath and scowled.  “Whatever, I’m gonna shower; help me up, Parrish.”  He extended a hand.  Adam, lifting one from his knee, grabbed Ronan’s.  When both boys were upright, Ronan looked like he’d been winded; Adam’s hand tingled, heated.  He felt blood rush to his cheeks and he was, for once, grateful for his shitty lighting.  _It’s just a hand, Adam,_ his mind scolded.  _Yes, thank you, I am aware of how ridiculous this is_ , he replied. 

              Ronan seemed to have recovered.  Wrinkling his nose at Adam, who stood still in contemplation, he said, “Go take a shower.  You smell like you swam in a sewer.  I’ll take second.”

              Adam’s brow crinkled though he didn’t feel angry.  He didn’t feel that blind rage like when he’d kicked the box with Blue.  With a sigh, he rubbed at his eyes and glanced, finally, at the clock.  The time gutted him and he rubbed his eyes again.  He was so tired.  His hand still tingled.

              “Go take a shower,” Ronan repeated, though it was gentler, less demeaning.

              Adam took a shower.  By the time he exited the bathroom, his hand had returned to its normal state of being.  Ronan had already begun to strip in preparation for his shower and the sight of his bare chest held Adam’s feet like concrete to the bathroom entrance.  The slow rake of his eyes from where Ronan’s skin disappeared into his jeans up the bare expansion of his skin felt obscene even as he couldn’t keep himself from doing it.   Ronan, rummaging for his change of clothes, apparently did not notice Adam’s sudden dilemma and slid past him into the bathroom, chest brushing Adam’s shoulder.  When the door shut, Adam felt his blush spread up across his cheeks and down his neck.

              _Pull yourself together_.  It wasn’t like he didn’t see a lot of Ronan’s skin; it was early fall and Ronan’s entire wardrobe consisted of different shades of black tank tops.  But there was something different about seeing the entirety of Ronan’s bare expanse, like vulnerability.  He looked solid and well-built and Adam could definitely appreciate the work football – and probably, earlier, boxing – had done on him.  Just appreciation.

              When Ronan came out of the bathroom, Adam had rebuilt his composure.  Pausing by his bed, Ronan reached out a hand and placed it on Adam’s shoulder.  Originally, it could have been to grab Adam’s attention, but then it stayed.  Ronan stared at it, almost as if he hadn’t intended on doing it.  Every single receptor cell was screaming at Adam’s touch-starved mind.

              “Next Friday is a home game.”

              “I’ll be there.”

              Ronan nodded once, affirmative, and then removed his hand and flopped onto his permanent makeshift bed.  Adam’s shoulder felt cold.

              An hour later, Ronan’s chest rose and fell in gentle waves and a barely audible beat came from his headphones.  Adam, still exhausted but struggling to sleep, wondered what he was dreaming about.  He wondered what he’d bring back.  He wondered if he’d ever be a creator of good things like Ronan or if he were destined to be tired, alone, and a bringer of misfortune forever.  He didn’t want to be tired anymore, he didn’t want to struggle anymore; sometimes waves just hit him and he felt so _exhausted_.  He didn’t want to be alone.

              A small sound eerily close to a snore came from Ronan and Adam curled into his blankets, the faintest of smiles on his lips.

              At least he wasn’t completely alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyway i forgot i've been sitting on a cache of beta'd chapters so have two for the holidays

            Since the last time had worked so well, Gansey had proclaimed, let’s just do it again.  And thus, Adam found himself once more attempting to do homework on the bleachers while practice ensued below.  Noah hadn’t yet appeared but he was distracted nonetheless.  On his lap, English annotations and interpretations called his name but he couldn’t be bothered, an unfamiliar feeling.  Cabeswater wasn’t here to block out the work pressure, and yet Adam felt detached from it all the more.  Instead, his attention was pulled completely to the field where Ronan bolted down the yards, keeping his balance as he turned and snatched the pass Gansey had thrown to him.

              Adam had slowly begun to see the different parts of Ronan.  He’d had such a basic overview and perception of Ronan for the first year and a half he’d known him, now he was paying attention and seeing the different levels that was Ronan Lynch.  As much as Adam didn’t want to quote Shrek, the onion metaphor worked.  There was the face Ronan put on at school, the one he put on for adults, the one he put on for Declan, the one he occasionally pulled for Gansey, the one he reserved for Matthew which Adam had been blessed enough to be occasionally given.

              A pair of students caught his peripheral vision, walking in his direction, and Adam immediately began to think of how his current position might be perceived.  Doing his homework on the bench because he didn’t have a desk at home?  Waiting at a practice because he needed a ride due to his lack of money for a car?  Generic notebooks because they were cheap?

              _You fit in more than you think you do._

              That had been a face of Ronan Adam hadn’t been well acquainted with: Ronan reaching out.  Figuratively and physically.  That’s what pulled his mind from his homework; he picked apart Friday night like it were a poem before him.  It’d been days, the weekend had passed and school had progressed as normal but Adam’s life felt different.  He still felt Ronan’s hand on his shoulder; his nerves still sang his warmth.  Rationally, Adam knew it was a ridiculous thing to still be focused on, however, his body and conscious did not often receive passing touches.  They endured hits and when it wasn’t a hit, there wasn’t a touch.  Ronan’s passing touch had set his brain on fire.  His nerves kept sending Adam’s brain messages which were, essentially, touches can be nice?  Give us more!

              Frankly, Adam wasn’t against the idea.

              He also knew all he had to do was ask, and Ronan would do anything.  Pat his shoulder.  Run fingers through his hair.  Hold his hand.  Ronan, in all his glory, would lay the world at Adam’s feet.

              It was a horrible feeling, the powerful glee he got from that thought.  Ronan, powerful incredible Ronan, would tear the city down if Adam asked.  It made him sick that he enjoyed it, craved it.  Ronan was too good of a person for Adam; Ronan was all things good, underneath his blunt skin, while Adam was an ugly being outside and in, craving power and control.  Ronan created living things, Adam brought about bloody illusions.

              _Don’t play_ , his brain said.  Adam had no right to ruin the grace of Ronan with his dirty hands.

              His eyes had been tracking Ronan but his brain hadn’t quite been there, but now he snapped to attention, registering Ronan jogging toward him.  An effortless pace.

              “Parrish, did I leave my hoodie at your place?” He greeted at the fence, arm coming to rest against the metal, fingers clinging to the links. 

              “Yeah,” he replied, casual, praying his entire internal dialogue didn’t play out on his face.  “Folded nicely like it hasn’t been since you got it.”  In truth, Adam had discovered the hoodie when he’d gotten home from work on Saturday and had spent the last three nights curled in its comforting aura.  Each morning he’d wake and take it off, ashamed, but each night he’d slide it back on regardless.  It was a protective shell, calming and peaceful.  “If you want it, you can come pick it up.”

              Ronan studied Adam’s face.  Adam stared back.  Unexpectedly, Ronan’s face broke into a small smile, something easy and pleased, though Adam didn’t know what he’d done which could have pleased Ronan; he couldn’t please himself, let alone others.

              Reaching around, Ronan pulled his phone out.  This caused Adam’s eyes to blow wide for two reasons: one, he had absolutely no idea where Ronan could have been hiding it and two, the thought of Ronan making an effort to have his phone on him was a harder concept to grasp than the magic of the ley lines.  “Can you hold onto my phone for me?  Matthew’s supposed to call me and it’s really not going well with it on me.”

              Adam nodded, more than accustomed to handling Ronan’s cellular communications.  Though he tried, Ronan couldn’t maneuver his phone to fit between the links of the fence.  Cursing extravagantly – Adam hid a small smile – Ronan tangled his fingers of one hand into the fence and hoisted himself up so his head was over the fence and reached his phone over.  For a moment, Adam didn’t move, surprised by the move and eyes drawn to the strain of Ronan’s bicep.  “Take the phone, Parrish, I’m not exactly light.”

              Adam extended his arm, grabbing the phone.  Time slowed as his fingers brushed against Ronan’s palm and vice versa.  It was Friday night all over again, an insignificant touch exemplified by his nerves and cells.  Ronan’s eyes seemed to hold Adam’s for years before he dropped back to the ground.  “Thanks, man.” 

             “No problem.”

              The coach yelled something Adam couldn’t distinguish; Ronan turned his head to acknowledge the noise and then retreated with a salute to Adam.  Adam valiantly tried and failed to keep his eyes off his ass as he went.  Adam counted himself lucky he wasn’t religious; football pants were truly sinful.

              Adam continued to be unproductive on his homework.  Overanalyzing was not a healthy procedure and yet he did it anyway, replaying the skin on skin.  It only made it worse when, on the field, they switched to a scrimmage of tag football and used shirts and skins.  Ronan was on the skins team.  Adam effectively gave up on homework.

               A chill crept up his spine, signaling Noah beside him.  Adam watched Gansey throw a perfect spiral to Ronan, who sprinted to a touchdown.

              “He’s waiting,” Noah said, catching Adam’s attention and cocking his head, looking at Adam in a way that was more ghost than human.  “Your move.”

              “What do you mean?” Adam asked though he knew.  He just didn’t know if he was ready to know.  Noah disappeared, once there now not in a blink which made Adam wonder if he’d been there at all.  Whether lack of energy or cowardly avoidance drove him out, Adam couldn’t tell.

              Approximately five whistles blew to signal the end of practice and Adam began putting the papers away that he hadn’t touched for the last half hour.  He walked to the other end of the bleachers slowly, giving Gansey and Ronan time to change, meeting Blue where stairs led off the stands. 

              “Get everything done you needed to?” she said by way of greeting.

              Adam lifted a shoulder.  “There’s always more to do.”

              “You seemed distracted.”  She said it offhandedly, but her eyes and the slight curl of her mouth suggested a punchline.  He remembered when he would have done anything to kiss that mouth.  He wasn’t sure when that had stopped.  “Any particular reason?”

              “Don’t,” he said, and he sounded tired even to his own ear.  “No.”

              “Okay.”  Blue reached to gently touch his arm, hesitant, a peace offering.  “Sorry.  Just, I know we’re still working on . . . _us_ , but I want to be best friends.  I want to talk to you more, so if you ever need to, I’m, I’m here, Adam.”

              “Okay.  Yeah, okay.”  Blue smiled.

              “Alright, Afterschool Special,” Ronan announced his emergence from the locker room.  “Let’s roll out.”  Gansey came out on his heels.

              With a gentle nudge to Adam’s arm with her elbow, Blue turned her head to holler back.  “Which one of us is that?”

              The pair reached them, Ronan resituating his duffel.  Nodding his head, he indicated Adam.  “You’re Short Round,” he told Blue.

              “Short Round?  Is this a race thing?” Placing a hand on her hip, Blue cocked it, eyebrows raised.  “Short Round is Chinese; I’m Korean Indian, ass.”

              “It’s not a race thing, maggot, it’s a height thing.”

              “Oh,” Blue righted herself.  “I can respect that.”

              Gansey blinked at Adam.  Adam shrugged, absolutely no help whatsoever.  “I normally just block the two of them out whenever they go on like that.”

              “For that, Parrish,” Ronan smirked, eyes gleaming, “you get to carry my duffel.”

              In the end, Adam did not carry the duffel due to Blue jumping on the defensive, promptly kicking Ronan’s shins for thinking Adam should “carry his shit” when Ronan did “jack shit” and Adam “works his ass off.”  Ronan rubbed his shin but laughed anyway and scooped up his bag, nudging Adam compatibly with his shoulder as they made their way to the Pig.  Adam didn’t think Blue used to curse this much; Ronan was becoming a bad influence.

              Blue graciously gave Ronan back the passenger seat, instead sliding along the back seat to situate behind Gansey, Adam coming to sit beside her, behind Ronan.  Once they’d gotten the Pig grumbling to life, Adam remembered the phone.  “Hey.”  He naturally went to Ronan’s right ear, squeezing himself between the seat and the side of the car, making their conversation a more private one rather than a car wide discussion.  Ronan turned his head.  “Did you want your phone back?”  He was already fishing it from his pocket.

              “Sure.”  Reaching a hand around, Ronan offered it palm up.

              Adam paused.  “Don’t you want to know if Matthew called?”

              “Did he?”

              “No.”

              Ronan did not seem surprised.  “Okay.” 

              Adam placed the phone into Ronan’s hand and Ronan promptly tossed it on the dash.  The drive to Cabeswater was, generally, uneventful.  Ronan scolded Gansey for endangering their lives when he took a hand off the wheel to reach around and hold Blue’s.  Gansey retorted by pointing out Ronan endangered their lives every time he was behind the wheel.  Though it was not a compliment, Ronan beamed.  Adam sat back quietly, observing, and Blue would turn and smile at him every so often.  It felt like it had in the beginning, before the effect of Whelk and Neeve and Kavinsky.

              Cabeswater sang their arrival, leaves rustling melodically in some unfelt breeze, a sound like groaning wood echoing as they entered.  Gansey brushed his fingers along the trunks as he led them in, a thoughtless caress.  Adam reached out with his mind and when he felt a gentle press of a leaf, he couldn’t tell if it was in his mind or physically there.  A quick brush of his cheek told him it was real, as anything was real in Cabeswater.  Ronan audibly inhaled, peaceful.  Blue was quiet, peaceful.

              For hours or minutes or years they wandered the forest, always just warm enough, just shaded enough.  They didn’t even have a purpose.  Glendower was always their underlying goal but some days, like this one, they just wandered and if something happened, it happened.  If it didn’t, it didn’t.  There was just them and Cabeswater and the magic between.  Like a living organism, they worked and shifted, responding to one another.  Adam squinted; Cabeswater’s canopy grew a little thicker.  Blue tripped on a root; the path ahead grew clearer.

              Adam had gotten lost in his head, in this place, in the magic of it all.  He didn’t register he’d thought of a song until Cabeswater responded; a bird sang a bit of the melody on his hearing side.  Gansey and Blue turned to stare at the bird, surprised by the real world influence in this other plane.  Ronan turned to stare at Adam, knowing what his work felt like.  The bird repeated the melody and another caught on further down where they’d been strolling.  A smile began to curl on Blue’s face when she recognized the tune.  Ronan’s stare now softened into something that resembled annoyance but his eyes didn’t hold any anger. 

              “Parrish,” he said in disbelief.  “You didn’t.”

              Adam couldn’t stop his small smile, reserved for the single pair of eyes on him.  He shrugged.

              “I can’t believe you would taint this forest in such a way.”

              Adam laughed his surprised laugh.  Around them, more birds picked up the song. 

              “I’m serious, Parrish,” Ronan turned an accusing finger.  “Ke$ha?”

              Adam shrugged again, smile still soft on his lips.  “I heard it on the radio at the shop yesterday.  It’s catchy.”            

              The song, now fully recognizable as Die Young, had developed into a full on ensemble performance, birds of varied species chirping in different octaves and parts.  In the front, Gansey sang the melody with complete gusto and confidence, surprisingly aggressive in his performance.  A little behind him, Blue contributed when she could, in between her fits of laughter whenever Gansey got too into his role.  Ronan sang willingly but quietly.  Caught in the moment, Adam found himself singing louder than he’d ever allow himself even alone in the shower.  None of them could quit the cheek aching smiles that adorned their faces.

              On their second repeat through the song, a beat underlying changed and Adam paused, listening, while Gansey and Blue continued their belting.  It became stronger until he recognized the tune and the feel of Ronan’s work in Cabeswater.  Ronan, seemingly knowing when he’d figured it out, gave him a loose, easy smile, one Adam had seen handed to Matthew multiple times.  A ghost of a hand brushed his shoulder, brushed his own hand; he smiled back.

              The new tune grew more noticeable until Gansey stopped belting and even paused in his slow stroll.  He turned accusingly back to his friends.  “Alright, who put the Murder Squash song on the playlist for today?”

              Ronan laughed and the sound took them all by surprise.  Gansey looked like he’d seen a ghost, but one that he loved and missed and wasn’t Noah.  “Would you believe me if I said Parrish?” Ronan asked.

              “Adam would never,” Gansey objected.

              “There’s more to him than you think.”  Ronan sent Adam a wink and Adam wasn’t quite sure what it meant.  “He’s sneaky when he thinks no one knows.”  Adam’s heart pounded his rib cage; his mind immediately went to his secret shame, the hoodie he’d turned into his nightly routine; but no, Ronan couldn’t know, could he?  If he found out, Adam just knew he would die from the embarrassment.

              Noah decided to appear then, a sudden presence so sure it felt strange to think he hadn’t been there in the first place; Adam was glad for a distraction from the implications the conversation had been heading toward.  Blue leapt to hug Noah, his presence becoming surer.

              “Sorry I’m late,” he said, playing absentmindedly with Blue’s spikes, “I couldn’t find this time.”

              Ronan passed by the tangled pair, running his hands playfully through Noah’s hair as he started back on the path they’d been strolling.  “You wouldn’t have liked the playlist.”

              Blue lifted her head from Noah’s shoulder and began attempting to maneuver them, still embraced, after Ronan.  “Noah loves Ke$ha.”

              Noah, accusingly, looked over his shoulder at Ronan.  “Ke$ha?  I love Ke$ha!  She knows how to use glitter.”

              Gansey and Adam, trailing behind this charade, shared an adoring look.  Adam reached out to Cabeswater, the song still fresh in his brain, and a bird in the distance cheerfully chirped the chorus melody.  Ronan whipped his head around, sending Adam a warning look with no heat.  Adam sent Ronan a reserved smirk he’d learned from him; Ronan looked impressed and pleased.

              Later, when the forest had been strolled to a satisfying amount and nothing had truly been progressed except the bond between group and forest, they dropped in a not-too-sunny clearing, pressed in the cool soft grass.  They laid in a circle, heads in the center.

              “I can’t say why,” Blue said, “but this feels like a ‘90s coming of age movie.”

              Ronan turned his head.  “There are not nearly enough absurd colors for the ‘90s.”

              “Do Gansey’s polos count?”

              “Adam,” Gansey sounded genuinely offended, “I didn’t expect such a betrayal from you.”

              “Like I said,” Ronan grinned, “sneaky.”  He whacked Adam’s arm playfully but didn’t retrieve his hand, instead leaving it resting on Adam’s upper arm, palm up.  Adam felt warm all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my race headcanon for blue is mix korean/indian due to my strong ties to my fancasts for artemus (naveen andrews) and maura (esther chae)  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

The fifth game was, overall, a boring game.  Adam hadn’t even heard of the team they were playing and Matthew had to explain where they were from twice.  Aglionby crushed any chance of a win they might have had by halftime with a devastating 43 points.  Due to this overall failure of a challenge, experienced players, including Ronan and Gansey, spent the second half on the bench, allowing lesser players and underclassmen field time without cost to the game.  After the ankle incident, the Lynches plus Adam had since moved their usual seating to the front row, thus allowing two quarters of the game for them to ignore as they instead entertained their friends.

Ronan overall just watched the game, only occasionally throwing comments over his shoulder for someone to appreciate.  Whenever Blue was on the field, doing her duty as water girl, Gansey turned to chat with Declan and Matthew, politely inquiring about their lives.  It was only during these moments, with his brothers – though probably Declan was the focus – distracted, that Ronan would fully turn and look at Adam.  Adam was looking at him already so no time was wasted in staring between them.  Though he wasn’t quite sure how, it felt intimate and penetrating, this staring.  Charged like a wire or the ley line.  Ronan’s gaze was loaded, something like consideration and uncertainty shoved into cool blue.  He looked as if words were on the tip of his tongue.

Then Blue would return to plop beside Gansey, he’d turn his attention to her, the other Lynches would return their attention forward, and Ronan would turn.

Though effectively defeated, the other team ended the game with one field goal on the board which relieved Adam.  He always rooted for the underdog.  What remained of the audience trickled quietly out of the stands when the clock ran out and Declan and Matthew went with them.  Adam felt obligated to wait and so slowly exited the stands and made his way to the locker building entrance.  He arrived just as his friends exited. 

“I prefer our regular players on the field,” Blue was saying.  “Those other guys in the second half were so rude.  Not a single thank you for my service!”

“Inconsiderate,” Ronan stated, feigning disbelief.

Blue chose to take it at face value.  “I know!  Hey, Adam.”

He offered a small wave and they started heading to the parking lot.  They’d made it ten feet when Noah appeared.  “I finally found a game time and it was so boring!”

“Well hello to you too,” Ronan greeted gruffly.

“You were at the game?” Sounding profoundly touched, Gansey said, “I’m sorry, we didn’t play very much.  Next week should be more exciting.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to find next week!”

This didn’t make much sense to the four non-ghosts and so they all ignored it.  Blue said, “Come back to Monmouth with us; we’ll try to make it up to you.  Do you want to paint my nails?”  This perked Noah up immediately and he nodded.

“Sorry I won’t be there for that thrilling party,” Ronan did not sound sorry, “I’m gonna crash with Parrish here.”  He draped his arm across Adam’s shoulders, casual, nonchalant, friendly.  All of a sudden Ronan’s scent – gasoline, the Barns – came flooding into Adam’s nose like it’d been ignoring it until they’d touched. 

After Adam had told Ronan he could come and get his hoodie if he’d wanted it, Ronan had and so there had been no Ronan clothes at Adam’s place for days.  The nightly cocoon of Ronan’s aura was absent and this sudden rush of it reminded him how much he’d craved it.

The smell of Ronan, still, was no match for the number the warmth of his skin was doing on Adam.

Blue responded but her words were lost as Adam’s brain processed the terrifying need discovered for this attention.  His eyes flitted up absentmindedly to Noah and Adam startled to find him staring straight back.  His gaze was not unkind, more amused and all-knowing than anything, but it scared Adam nonetheless. 

Slowly, he came back to the conversation.

“I’ll paint your nails yet, Ronan Lynch,” Blue threatened playfully.

“On my cold, dead hands, maggot.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” 

Adam wasn’t sure when they’d started walking again but the vastly empty parking lot came into view.  They split then, heading to different cars but not before Ronan passed his bag to Gansey to take home for him.  Blue intertwined her hand with Gansey’s as they headed for the Pig, calling a goodnight over their shoulders as Noah skipped ahead of them.  Unable to tear his eyes from their twined hands, Adam felt his own hand twitch and mentally told it to chill out.

The pair headed to Adam’s shitty car in silence, Ronan’s arm still across his shoulders.  As they got closer, Ronan started to separate them in preparation for heading to the passenger side.  His arm slid back across Adam’s shoulders, hand stopping to loosely grasp the back of Adam’s neck, squeezing lightly in a signal that the touch was ending, and removed his arm completely.  Cool night air bit at Adam’s neck but his goosebumps were not from the chill.

As the Hondayota sputtered to a start and Adam backed out of the parking space, Ronan placed his arm on the armrest.  This would have been regular and casual if his arm was not angled toward the driver’s seat.  And palm up.  Keeping his eyes disinterested and forward, Ronan did not look at Adam yet the offering was clear.  All Adam had to do was reach out.  If he didn’t want to, he didn’t reach out.  There was room to run.

For what felt like hours but in actuality was more like a minute, Adam kept his eyes on the dark road but stared at the palm from his peripheral vision.

Adam reached out.

He didn’t remember making the decision.  One minute, he was agonizing, the next his hand was off the wheel and laid gently, delicately into Ronan’s.  Ronan didn’t look at him but in the silence of the car, Adam heard air rush out of his nostrils, a released breath.  Slowly, with care, Ronan’s fingers curved, establishing their hands into more of a hold but not crushing Adam’s hand.  He could take his hand back if he wanted.

He didn’t.  For the rest of the drive, his hand stayed pressed into Ronan’s.  Ronan’s palm offered a gentle heat and a little sweat, though Adam felt as if that was partly him as well.  The palm still on the wheel certainly felt sweaty.

When he pulled into St. Agnes, he let go of Ronan’s hand to turn off the car and Ronan got out without a word.  Adam’s nerves sang.  They could really get used to this whole touch thing.

Following Adam inside, Ronan flopped onto his makeshift bed without grace and groaned.  Adam ignored him and paused by his desk, idly pushing papers around as he considered his time schedule.  He had some homework that needed done but he also worked an early and long shift tomorrow.  A wave of exhaustion hit him and, closing his eyes, he steadied himself.  The homework could wait until tomorrow night.

After that, Adam went on autopilot.  He felt barely conscious as he showered, changed, folded back his sheets, and settled into bed.  The apartment could have fallen down around him and he would have missed it.  That said, all it took was Ronan breaking the silence they’d held since the car to bring him back to reality.  “What song is that?”

“What?”

“That song you’re humming.  What is it?” 

Adam was surprised one, that he’d been humming, and two, that Ronan didn’t have headphones so he actually heard Adam humming.  He thought about it for a second, trying to remember the unconscious melody.  “Oh.  It’s an old kid’s song.”  It was a miracle he remembered it at all.  Adam paused before adding, “My mother used to sing it to me.”  Maybe Ronan hadn’t heard the tremble in his voice.

There was silence in the now dark apartment and Adam figured Ronan had put in his headphones to attempt to sleep.  Grateful for the chance, Adam pulled his blankets up around him and closed his eyes.

“Sing it.”

Adam opened his eyes.  There’d been such a pause of silence he wasn’t actually sure Ronan had spoken at all.  When he hesitated, Ronan confirmed his request by saying, “Or don’t, fuck, Parrish, I’ll just listen to the murder squash song.”

Adam would’ve felt angrier at the snap if he hadn’t heard the uncertain rush in the speed and tone.  He took a moment to play the melody in his head, try to remember the words from when he was younger.  It felt like ages since his mother had cared enough to sing or wasn’t scared to sing; a different life.

“Pin Pon es un muñeco/muy guapo de carton/se lava su carita/con agua y con jabón,” Adam started quietly.  To his own ear, the space was too quiet and he had to force his voice not to break.  Honestly, he was surprised he still knew the words; the song hadn’t been sung to him in a decade.

When he finished, Adam waited nervously for a response but there wasn’t a single sound from the end of the bed except for the soft flow of air in and out of Ronan’s body.  Adam rolled over and went to sleep.

-

Saturdays had become a time when Adam’s employers made up for him asking off time on Fridays.  Managing a small snack between jobs, by the time Adam got home after the sun had set, he was starving.  His hand shook as he put the key in the door but he found it unlocked already.  Pushing open the door with caution, Adam let out a shaky breath when he found Ronan in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

Ronan had been up when Adam’s alarm rang this morning and had left when Adam did, heading wherever Ronan was when he wasn’t at Monmouth or Adam’s apartment.  Adam had given Ronan a spare key after finding him waiting outside his door one too many times and Ronan had been putting it to good use.

Acknowledging his presence, Ronan lifted a greasy takeout bag in offering.  Adam threw his bag and keys on his bed and accepted the bag, too tired to make a fuss.  The food inside was still warm so Ronan must have recently gotten here.

Two burgers and a large fry had never tasted as good as they did then, grease oozing out of the meat.  They were gone too fast but Adam felt satiated.  While Adam licked remaining grease from his fingers, Ronan stood and squatted beside his duffel bag beside his permanent makeshift bed.  “Parrish, look at this shit.”

Obliging, Adam turned his head and laughed, surprised.  Ronan was holding his football helmet, which was normal, but the helmet glistened in the low lighting, which was not normal.  Hundreds of little jewels decorated the surface, covering the entire helmet. 

“They bedazzled my helmet.”  Ronan looked horrified.  “This is what I get for leaving my stuff unattended.  I should throw him out a window again, though I doubt Blue is blameless in this crime.”

“At least they took the time to outline your number.  Considerate.”

“Yeah, how about they consider my foot in their asses.”  Ronan dropped the helmet back into his duffel.  “Though I gotta say, Gansey’s is worse.  They tried to make a picture of Glendower but it looks like a potato.”

“Ah yes, our great quarterback, the fearless potato.”

Ronan chuckled and plopped on the bed beside Adam.  “You should call him that; I think he’d really appreciate it.”

Instead of responding, Adam just smiled down at his hands where they curled in his lap.  It was quiet for a while, both boys just breathing in each other’s presence, and then Ronan moved.  It startled Adam, who’d half dazed out.  It was, however, just Ronan’s arm stretching out, palm up in Adam’s field of vision.  An offering again.

Adam’s hand itched, ached, and, when he reached out, shook.  If Ronan saw the nervous tremble, he didn’t mention it, just gently held Adam’s hand.  Adam hid a smile; he was on another plane.

A squawk jumped Adam’s heart from his stomach to his throat and he instinctively protected his face when an object approached, separating his hand from Ronan’s.  It took him a moment to recognize the talons in his shoulder.

“Fuck off, Chainsaw,” Ronan sounded more frustrated with the bird than Adam had ever heard him.  Grabbing Chainsaw off Adam’s shoulder, he set her on the bed where she picked curiously at the ruffles in the sheets.  “Sorry,” he said to Adam’s profile while the other boy watched Chainsaw, “she’s just jealous I wasn’t giving her attention.”

Adam scoffed.  “Bet that’s the first time anyone’s been jealous of _me_.”

“Parrish, I swear to God, shit,” Ronan sighed.  Ducking his head, he caught Adam’s eye.  “Enough with the self-deprecation.  You’re worth something, okay?  And there’s plenty to be jealous of.  Money doesn’t count your worth.  Jesus knows I’m not worth mine.”

Adam disagreed.  “Yeah?”

His disbelief must have shown in his voice or face.  “Yes, Jesus, Parrish.”  Ronan waved Chainsaw away when she crept closer.  “You’re resilient as hell.  You’re resourceful as hell.  Stubborn as a fucking jackass but you make it work; you don’t let money keep you from working your ass off and getting a good goddamn education.  And facing your father?  Taking him to court?”  Ronan took a breath; Adam couldn’t find his.  “That’s one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.  You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.  Any person who has a damn brain would be jealous of all you’ve accomplished for yourself.”

Adam couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take it.  Ronan was looking bare and strained, like he wanted to say more, confess.  Adam wasn’t ready, didn’t want to hear whatever was on the tip of his tongue.  Taking a shallow breath through his nose, he turned to where Chainsaw had found the remnants of his fries.  She dug for crumbs.  “Where’d she come from anyway?”

Ronan paused before answering.  Out of his peripheral vision, Adam watched the other boy study his profile.  Adam felt like he knew Ronan best out of his peripheral vision.  “She was starving for company so I brought her with me.  She’d been entertaining herself with your trash; I’d forgotten she was here.”

They were quiet for a minute, both watching Chainsaw and each other.

 “You have homework?”  Ronan asked though the answer was a given.

“Yeah,” Adam replied, the edges of his mouth already turning down at the thought.

Ronan nodded understandingly.  “I’m just gonna crash here then.  I’ll stay out of your hair.”

Trigonometry had never seemed duller. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blue’s been taking care of chainsaw while ronan’s been neglecting her to ogle at adam


	8. Chapter 8

The sixth game, as Gansey promised, was more exciting than the last, not only due to the fact that Gansey and Ronan’s helmets glittered from the field.  The other team was matched almost evenly with Aglionby and every point gained felt like a blessing.  The exhaustion of the players was evident, heaving chests visible even from the stands.  Between plays, the players hunched over their knees, trying to catch their breath.  Blue was working extra hard.  Even so, the coaches refused to switch out players as their best were on the field and the game was neck and neck.  Adam felt exhausted just looking at the field.

With under a minute on the board, fourth quarter, the other team punted.  Gansey caught the ball and Ronan was immediately at his side as he darted for the end zone.  As Gansey dodged with fancy footwork, Ronan gave everyone in the quarterback’s way a hard shoulder.  This wasn’t in Ronan’s position description but he was good at shoving and so he put it to use.  Gansey didn’t make it to a touchdown but he gained an impressive fifty-six yards, allowing Tad to kick a clean field goal on the next play.  Aglionby won the game by the three.

When Blue and Adam met Gansey and Ronan at the door, both players were drenched in sweat and still panting.  Blue crinkled her nose.  “Couldn’t you have at least run a towel over yourselves?”

“And destroy this natural musk?” Ronan quipped.  “Never.”

Gansey at least looked apologetic.  “I didn’t have a towel so I couldn’t.  I put some fresh deodorant on, though.”

Blue leaned in and sniffed.  “I guess I can kind of smell it.”  She stood on her toes and bumped their noses.  “I appreciate the effort.”

“Holy shit,” Ronan panted.  “I don’t think I’ve run so much in my life, Christ.  Okay, this was a goddamn effort so, Nino’s?”  They all nodded, glancing at one another for confirmation.  “Okay, awesome, let’s go.”

As they walked to the parking lot, the air bit a little too much and Adam pulled his jacket tighter.  He hadn’t really noticed how much into fall it had gotten until he walked out of a late night shift shivering.

When they reached the lot, they split as Gansey and Blue headed to the Pig.  Gansey looked at Ronan.  Ronan nudged Adam’s arm and said, “I’m gonna keep Parrish here company on the long five minute ride.”

“Okay, see you there.”

In the car, Ronan extended his hand and Adam took it.  There’d been more of this over the past week so Adam felt calmer curling his fingers.  Blood still rushed and his heart still pounded but there wasn’t any more hesitation in touch.  Ronan had spent even more time than usual at Adam’s over the week, bringing him fast food after long shifts and idly touching him and warding off Chainsaw while he ate.  Nothing serious, just a hand on an arm, fingers absentmindedly trailing up and down his forearm, more hand holding.  Ronan must have clued in to Adam’s newfound love and craving of touch or he was just selfishly touching Adam now that he knew that he could.  Either way, Adam didn’t mind.

Once, Adam had been working on homework for a couple of hours after a shift while Ronan lay across his bed and played with Chainsaw.  It had been a long and horrible day and Adam was a stiff ball of tension as he attempted to wax poetic essays unsuccessfully.  He hadn’t heard Ronan stand or the objective squawk Chainsaw must have made but then the other boy was in his view, reaching slowly to touch Adam’s shoulder so he wouldn’t jump when contact was made.  Ronan circled around, now out of his view, and his other hand touched his shoulder and squeezed.  Ronan pressed his shoulders, working out the tension, the knots upon knots.  The massage continued up his neck to his hairline and down to where his seat pressed into his back.

When Adam had nearly fallen asleep, Ronan stepped back.  Nothing was said.  Taking a deep breath, Adam had returned to his essay and found his words flowing much easier.

All in all it had been a glorious week for Adam’s sensory nerves.

At Nino’s, Adam parked beside the Pig, and they both let go and wordlessly got out of the car.  Though leaving at the same time, Blue and Gansey had already made it inside and had a booth.  Adam and Ronan slid across from them.

The boys had never been to Nino’s following a football game but Blue had worked many football Fridays and so was unsurprised by the amount of Raven Boys generally making a scene.  Adam glanced around nervously, Ronan surveyed the menu as if nothing was amiss, and Gansey gave halfhearted greetings to calls when other students realized his presence.

A waitress came to their table, giving a little smile and wave to Blue who smiled back, and took their drink orders.  Under the table, Ronan’s knee bumped Adam’s.  He would have passed it as an accident but then the knee came back and pressed, a constant presence.  Adam’s heart beat loud as a siren.  Across the room, Henry Cheng raised a toast to Aglionby’s quarterback and Gansey, having no drink to raise, gave a loose salute to the cheers, cheeks beet red.  The waitress returned then, sighing and smiling tightly, and Gansey downed his water.  She took their orders.

“I didn’t know we had a bona fide celebrity with us here today,” Ronan commented offhandedly after she left, resting his arm along the length of the booth, behind Adam’s head.

Gansey groaned.  “I wish they’d all shut up.  They’re making such a scene.”

“And now you know why I didn’t like Raven boys before you guys,” Blue said, sipping her iced tea.  “And still don’t.”

Adam was also not a fan of the abundance of students but instead his focus was turned to the arm behind him.  While not touching him, all he had to do was lean back and the arm, Ronan’s arm, would be against his neck.  Tilt his head and he’d be resting on it.  All of their touching to this date had been private, in the car, in his apartment.  This, while not touching, was just an inch away from a public display.  Of course, Ronan’s arm touching his neck would be nothing showy and anyone looking would just assume friendly interactions but it still felt like _something_.  While usually good at reading Ronan, he couldn’t decide if Ronan wanted him to touch him or not.

The food came a bit later and they all thanked the waitress excessively while eyeing the other students.  She smiled appreciatively. 

Adam, who had been receiving a lot of burgers from Ronan as of late, had ordered a slice of pizza and he downed it with fervor.

Gansey, who had probably not been receiving a lot of burgers from Ronan as of late, had gotten a burger and was much slower.  Gansey was a delicate eater, rearranging the pieces so they were evenly spaced between the buns.  Furthermore, he took a knife and scraped what he considered excess mayonnaise and mustard from the bun.  He turned the burger upside down so the bottom bun wouldn’t become as squashed and soaked.  By the time he’d taken a bite, Blue had eaten half of her grilled cheese and half of his fries and Adam’s pizza was gone.

Adam didn’t have much cash on him.  Well, truth be told he didn’t have much cash period, so one slice of pizza was his limit when eating out.  As a growing individual who barely had time to eat, this did not ever satisfy his hunger but he assured himself he’d raid his barren pantry later.  He idly picked the crumbs from his plate and hoped it looked casual.

Across the table, Blue shoved a fry in her mouth.  “So what’s the next step in the Glendower plan?  I know we haven’t done much lately but we’re all pretty busy at the moment so thoughts?  Just more exploring Cabeswater because I’m down for that.”

Gansey replied but Adam was distracted.  Were Ronan’s fries closer?  They certainly hadn’t been halfway between them before.

“We have practice that day,” Ronan replied to whatever Gansey had said.  “That’s a no go.”

Nope, the fries were definitely closer.  Under the table, Ronan’s knee, where it pressed to Adam’s, nudged and Adam got the meaning.  Another offering.  Adam felt like he should refuse, his pride blocking his head.  He only had the money for a slice; he didn’t have the money to pay back Ronan for the fries he’d eat.  He hated eating other’s food without paying that person back.

Behind his back, Ronan’s thumb tapped on his shoulder, a quiet and small movement.  It continued in a small rhythm.  Adam breathed.

“I work that day,” Blue was saying, “so I can’t do that.”

Adam reached out and took a fry.  No one broke the conversation, continuing going through their calendars.  Ronan’s tapping thumb changed to a light sweep back and forth and Adam’s nerves roared.  Late night dinner continued.

The other Aglionby students had cleared out by the time the four of them stood from the booth.  Their waitress smiled at them as they left, hands full of Raven boy dishes.  The cool autumn air bit at them when they stepped out to the parking lot and Gansey wrapped an arm around a shivering Blue.  They started heading to the cars they arrived in when Ronan told the pair, “Hang on, just give me a second.”  Gansey looked surprised but got in the car and waited.

Unlocking both doors, Adam sat in the driver’s seat while Ronan leaned into the passenger’s side.  He hadn’t asked for an explanation but Ronan gave him one anyway. 

“I’m gonna go back to Monmouth tonight lest dearest Mother Gansey begin to grow suspicious of my whereabouts.”

“Suspicious?”

“Yeah every time I get into a car he gives me the appraising Dad stare.  I think he thinks I’m going racing.”

“You are racing.”

“Yeah but not at the times that he thinks I am, the times I’m with you.”

Adam nodded but was overall silent.  Ronan glanced at the Pig and then reached out and grasped Adam’s hand.  Adam, to his part, did not flinch away but instead grasped right back.

“Tomorrow,” Ronan sounded a little rushed, a little uncertain, “you have homework and shit or can we go up to the Barns?”

“I’m off at 5 –”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“– so I guess after that.”

Ronan exhaled.  “Cool.  I’ll pick you up then.”

“I guess you will.”

Ronan let go of his hand and grabbed his duffel out of the backseat.  “Alright, night, Parrish.”

“Night.”

The door shut and Adam watched him circle around, squeeze in the Pig, and throw his duffel on a disgruntled Blue.  Gansey had a reprimanding face as he drove away.  Adam breathed and turned the car on.

At his apartment, Adam found a tossed away Ronan shirt and, giving up on his shame a week ago, put it on.  Collapsing on his bed, he decided to forego a shower until tomorrow morning before his shift started.  He instead curled onto his side and pulled the collar of the gray t-shirt over his nose, trapping his senses in the all-encompassing smell of Ronan.  Adam breathed deeply and his heart rate slowed, calming.  For a few minutes he just laid, eyes closed and breathing, feeling blissful peace.  Given the opportunity, Adam would crawl into this scent of freedom for the rest of his life, on another plane of blissful isolation from the world simply surrounded by gasoline, the Barns, the rustic outdoors.          

For a moment, he thought about himself from Ronan’s point of view.  Maybe it wasn’t such a far off idea, Adam being worthy of something.  He’d shed blood, sweat, and tears to be where he was and he deserved something for his troubles.  Maybe he deserved happiness.  Maybe he deserved someone. Someone like Ronan.

_Don’t play_ , his brain warned.  _But what if I’m not_? he replied.

He certainly felt _something_ for Ronan.  He was all too familiar with the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest but when it was around Ronan, because of Ronan, it was different than fear.  It wasn’t fear.  His heart pounded with exhilaration, expectation.  The thrill of a gentle touch, the possibility and promise of more.  It was different but it was wonderful.

Adam wasn’t sure he knew what love was or how it all worked but if what he was experiencing now was the beginning, he wanted more.  Adam had wanted all his life; wanted money, wanted possibility, wanted opportunity, wanted a different life, but here he stood, wanting more and having the opportunity to receive for once.

Being with Ronan, committing to Ronan was no small thing; it was a long term attempt at more, at forever.  It was finding out what love was.  For once, that word didn’t scare him off.  For once, it felt like a door was opening that he wanted to go into.

Adam fell into sleep quickly after that, inhaling only the smell of peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be a football fic but let it be known i really do not keep up with football and i only watch it on occasion when there is no other choice so if you actually enjoy football and are reading this i'm so sorry for any scene you read actually involving the sport


	9. Chapter 9

As promised, Ronan was waiting in the BMW when Adam got home from work.  Throwing his work stuff into his apartment, Adam grabbed a heavier jacket and slid into the passenger seat.  Ronan wordlessly offered his hand, which Adam took, and sped out of the lot.

The Barns was still in a slow transition from summer to fall, some trees holding bright green leaves proudly while others showcased their arrays of red and orange.

They sat in the car for a moment, taking in the view, before getting out.  The Barns always gave a weird feeling in Adam’s chest similar to the pang he felt about Monmouth.  A yearning.

As they started walking from the car, Ronan casually slid his hand into Adam’s and Adam accepted it graciously.  All previous hand holding had been while sitting or lying or in the car; never while moving.  Adam swung their linked hands a bit and smiled to himself.  He felt normal.

Adam had expected Ronan to go straight to his father’s chair in the barn, fall asleep, and try to dream up a solution to the sleeping cattle problem.  However, when Ronan led him to one of the barns, he simply grabbed a football from amongst a pile of junk and walked out into the fields.  Adam followed obediently, Ronan tugging a little on his hand.

When the house was out of view and only tall grass and a side barn surrounded them, they stopped.  Ronan separated their hands, a loss Adam felt more for than he should have, and jogged fifteen feet or so away from Adam, who stood and waited.  Twirling the ball thoughtfully in his hands, Ronan held it up and threw it to Adam.  The pass wasn’t a hard throw but Adam was unprepared and nearly dropped it.  He looked at it in his hands for a moment before looking up at Ronan, who waited expectantly.  He passed it back.

They threw the football back and forth in silence for Adam didn’t know how long.  It could’ve been fifteen minutes, it could’ve been an hour.  Time never seemed to exist at the Barns.  A toss one way with only simple understanding of how a football works, a toss the other with noticeably more skill.  Ronan didn’t snide when he had to move to catch the ball, though.

“Why do you play football?”  The question was out of Adam’s mouth without his control; from simple thought to action before he could stop it.

Ronan paused, ball smacked between his hands.  He met Adam’s eyes, molten eyes honest. “Discipline,” was all he said before throwing the ball back.  Adam caught it clumsily, distracted.  “That and Gansey wanted me to.”

Restricting the urge to push more, Adam passed the ball.

Though Ronan hadn’t said much, just one simple word seemed to bear more about him than he normally shared.  Discipline.  That told him Ronan felt chaotic.  Everyone knew Ronan was a chaotic type of person but _being_ and _feeling_ are two very different things.  He felt uncontrollable, unstable.  Football gave him a schedule to register to; stability in an unstable life which then gave him security. 

Adam could relate.

The confession seemed a private thing and Adam suddenly felt an imbalance between them.  He hated imbalances above all else; it was why he couldn’t accept charity from Gansey.  Ronan was being open; Adam felt closed off.  As he passed the ball, he said, “I wanted to be in the band.”

Whether the break in the silence or the confession itself caught Ronan off balance, he missed the ball.  Scooping it off the ground, he considered Adam.  “Why didn’t you?”

Adam shrugged and rubbed at his arm self-consciously.  “Didn’t have the money for an instrument and equipment or the time to commit.”

Ronan smirked.  “And here you could be performing at my halftimes.”

“I don’t think they’re your halftimes.”

“We all know I’m the star of the team.”

Adam laughed his surprised laugh and saw something shift in Ronan’s features at the sound of it.  “Pretty sure that’s our All-American friend, Richard Campbell Gansey the Third, quarterback.”

With a grunt, Ronan finally passed the ball back.  Chest light, Adam caught and returned it.  Comfortable silence over took them again.

“What would you have played?”  Ronan asked casually.

Unprepared for the question, it took Adam a moment to reply.  All casual.  “I always liked sax.” 

“You look like a sax player.”

Adam caught the ball close to his chest and let out an amused huff of air.  “What does that mean?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.  It just sounded like something someone who knew anything about instruments would say.”  Ronan smiled, Adam laughed.

They fell into a more permanent silence.  When the sun began to set, they passed the ball once more and started the trek back to the cluster of buildings, Ronan returning his hand to Adam’s.  The night air was crisp and both boys’ hands were cold but they paid no mind.  The sun sunk below the horizon as they walked so Ronan took them to the main barn by memory.  Tossing the football back in, Ronan turned to head to the car.  Adam didn’t move.  Ronan turned when his arm was tugged, looking at Adam questioning.  The light overhead flickered and Ronan’s dream light orbs erupted from the barn and began to dance around them.

It was unreal.

Suddenly, all the memories of touches over the past two weeks came flooding into Adam’s senses.  All he could feel was the ghost press of Ronan’s hands massaging his shoulders, Ronan’s fingers trailing his arms, Ronan’s thumb swiping his shoulder, Ronan’s arm draped across him.  His nerves tingled at the memories, begged for more, and his brain sang a gentle lullaby in his head.  _Touch_ seemed to be the general consensus of his body and for once, he would listen to what it wanted.

Keeping one hand in Ronan’s, Adam lifted his other and let it hover over Ronan’s chest, between them.  His eyes were on his hand, not on Ronan, and heavy clouds of white represented his breath in the chill.  Slowly, his hand pressed onto Ronan’s chest; it trembled as Ronan let out a shuttered breath.  For a moment, a minute, an eternity, Adam kept his hand there, feeling the unsteady tripping of Ronan’s heartbeat.  It was strange for Adam to feel what his heart so often did while it now beat steady in his own chest.  For all his continuous anxiety, now his heart was beating clear in this path.

Eventually, he let his hand travel up, pausing at the base of Ronan’s throat before tracing where his collarbone hid beneath his shirt.  His hand continued its journey out to Ronan’s shoulder where it sat for a moment, thumb brushing gently back and forth like Ronan had done in Nino’s.  His hand came back along Ronan’s shoulder, stopping at the juncture where his shoulder met his neck.  Adam swallowed thickly and pressed his fingers one by one onto Ronan’s skin, curling around his neck, thumb resting just below his Adam’s apple.  It bopped as Ronan swallowed.  Adam looked, finally, into Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan’s eyes were cloudy, a glazed over sky as he let out shallow breaths.  They glanced down quickly to Adam’s lips before snapping back to his eyes, an action which caused Adam’s heart to give a single, solid thud as reminder.

Ronan looked at him like he’d been doing for months.  Adam looked back like he’d been doing for months.  The air stilled between them.  Lifting his free arm, Ronan brought it up slowly, tentatively, coming to hover beside Adam’s face.  Ronan’s face asked and Adam nodded shortly.  Pressing gently, Ronan cupped Adam’s face, his palm cold against his cheek.  Body language was Ronan’s primary language and now it spoke stories of his nerves; his hand trembled against Adam’s face.

_Don’t play_ , Adam’s brain said.  _I’m not_ , he replied.

He kissed Ronan.

It wasn’t a very active kiss.  There was no push and pull, swipe of tongue, or any other romantic novel garb.  It was just a press of the lips, both boys just absorbing the other, testing, feeling.  Breathing in.  Ronan’s pulse beat against Adam’s fingers while Adam’s red cheeks warmed Ronan’s palm.

They pulled back but kept their heads together, foreheads flush and noses brushing.  Breath passed from one mouth to the other.  Suddenly scared, Adam couldn’t keep the silence.  “Ronan?”

Ronan opened his eyes then.  One look at Adam and they immediately closed again.  “Shit.”  The breath the word floated on passed from Ronan’s lips and brushed Adam’s.  It was distracting.  “Shit.”

 “Are you okay?”

“You don’t know how - I don’t think you -” Ronan stopped and breathed, tightening his grip on Adam.  He opened his eyes.  His pupils, dilated, were frantic as they switched between Adam’s eyes.  “Are you sure?” 

_Are you sure you want to do this?  Are you sure you’re ready?  Are you sure you know what all this means?  Are you sure you want_ me _?_ It all played out on Ronan’s face, sang to Adam in the small yet trembled movements of his thumb across Adam’s cheek.  The thing was, Adam had never been surer of anything in his life.  Once he had made this decision, to try with Ronan, to try forever with Ronan, it had seemed like the most obvious answer.  Finally something he wanted and could get.  Freely.  It was standing right in front of him.

In answer, Adam pulled him into another kiss, shorter but less exploratory and more telling.  Just to make sure the message was clear, when he pulled back he said, “Absolutely.”

This once again overwhelmed Ronan and he closed his eyes, breathing raggedly.

“Okay?”  Adam asked.

Ronan nodded and took a couple more moments to open his eyes.  When he did, he tentatively pressed a chaste kiss to Adam’s lips, his first initiated.  He peppered more, slowly allowing himself to melt into Adam’s mouth with more depth.  He pushed, ever so gently, and Adam got the message, taking a step back.  Another step and his back hit the solid wood of the barn.  He leaned into the structure, meaning Ronan had to lean done ever so slightly more to reach him, an act he happily obliged.

Trailing his hand down from Ronan’s neck, Adam settled it on Ronan’s chest, again feeling the strong yet still unsteady pound of his heart against his ribcage and felt the mirror of it in his own chest.  Adam suddenly remembered that their hands were still linked at their sides and gave a small squeeze.  He’d thought it harmless but Ronan had to break their current kiss and breath, forehead resting against Adam’s, who smiled endearingly.

It all felt very intimate, Ronan’s home, Ronan surrounding him, faces close but not kissing at the moment, but was also the most comfortable Adam had felt in his life.

Ronan, recovered, dove back in and Adam redirected his attention.

They made out against the barn for hours, years, lifetimes.  Already hard to tell time at the Barns, it was impossible when the sun was already down.  Time suddenly felt like a real concept again when Adam broke a kiss to yawn.

“Already bored, Parrish?” Ronan teased but pressed his nose into Adam’s cheek.  Adam could more feel his smile than see it.

Adam just hummed in response, a familiar wave of exhaustion hitting him.  Bringing his face around, Ronan pressed a chaste kiss and pulled away.  The night air had never felt colder.  Ronan tugged on their linked hands, pulling Adam from the wall with a laugh as Adam made it a slow process.  Finally standing on his own two feet Adam bumped shoulders lightly with Ronan as they walked.  They kept sending each other silent smiles that sent warmth fluttering across Adam’s chest.  He felt like he could fly; his body as light as a feather.

They held hands on the drive back to St. Agnes.  It felt like second nature now, reaching between the seats whenever they got into the car.  Ronan still offered his hand up when he could just reach over and take Adam’s; that had been established in the mesh by the barn.  It still made Adam feel brave, though, reaching over.

Ronan walked Adam up the stairs to his door, which was a little unnecessary, but it ended with a few more minutes of making out so he wasn’t too upset over it.  Once inside, Adam watched the BMW leave before locking the door and collapsing on his bed.  He didn’t change, didn’t shower, just let the memory wrap around him.  He fell asleep with a ridiculous smile on his face.

-

Gansey was sitting on the floor at Monmouth, gluing a roof onto his newest Miniature Henrietta building.  It wasn’t late enough to classify his unrest as insomnia, as this habit was often connected to, but it calmed him to build, to create.  He’d gotten off the phone with Blue not even a half hour ago, which also helped.  She’d just finished work but wanted to talk for a bit before she dove into an upcoming project she hadn’t started on.  Though he wasn’t going to sleep yet, he hoped the memory of her voice would help him later.

The front door to Monmouth jingled open and Ronan walked in.  He was going to make a joke about curfew but one, it wasn’t late enough for that kind of joke, and two, looking at Ronan jarred him.  Ronan looked, dare he say, happy.  His glow competed with the moon filtering in through the large windows and he was, yes, he was indeed smiling.  Silently, Gansey pinched himself, not entirely sure he was awake and not in some memory dream where Ronan was younger and freer and less troubled.

“Hey,” he heard himself say and, thankfully, he sounded much more normal out loud.

“Hey,” Ronan threw back, stepping carefully through Henrietta, looking much like a movie monster as he headed to his room. 

“I fed Chainsaw.”

Now at his door, Ronan turned to face Gansey, still smiling.  “Thanks, man.”  He slid into his room and closed the door.

Gansey stared after him for a bit.  Finally, he felt himself smile, a small thing, private even though he was alone.  Ronan being happy felt like nostalgia but to know it was present and real was greater than any find he’d found to date.  If he ever found the cause, he’d praise it to the Heavens and never let it leave Monmouth.

With a final smile to Ronan’s door, Gansey turned back and attached the roof.


	10. Chapter 10

Adam had an early shift the next morning but he found it easier to roll out of bed in the morning and step into the shower than he had in the last couple of months.  His shift, at the factory, meant it was just him, a clipboard, and a tedious amount of heavy lifting and organizing and rotating, and he floated through the hours unconsciously; though rather than a desperate need of sleep, the drifting was a calm peace.  Slightly odd, though a rather nice of change of pace. 

Pausing to rehydrate, he glanced at the clock.  St. Agnes would be releasing now.  He could imagine the slow spill of people from the main wood doors, clusters forming as casual conversations drawled.  The church had mostly an older population, the Lynches being the majority of the youth, and old people liked to dwaddle.  He’d caught glimpses of this weekly ritual from his window, needing to leave for work but aware of all the judgmental eyes that would be on him the moment he stepped out the door.  He usually waited it out and sped to work.

The image of Ronan came to mind.  Adam could imagine him too, blinking into the noon sun, loosening his tie as he stepped out into the gravel parking lot.  He’d look at Adam’s door while Declan and Matthew chatted politely with pestering old ladies.  What if he was home?  Would Ronan climb the stairs, knock on the door?  Barge in?  What would happen inside?

Last night gave him a semblance of an idea.  Adam sighed at his clipboard.  He wouldn’t be off for at least a few more hours.  Turning back to endless boxes, he got to work and tried not to think about Ronan getting into the BMW and driving away.

Sometime later, as other workers scattered in, Adam stumbled out.  His arms were numb, his stomach growled, and he lost sense of time for a moment when he stepped outside.  Despite the chill of the day, the Hondayota was heated by the overbearing sun and had only begun to cool by the time Adam pulled into St. Agnes.  The cars from the service were all gone now but as he turned the corner, Adam saw the BMW right before he saw Ronan on his steps.  His heart fluttered and he turned off the car.

“You have a key,” he greeted as he got out.

“It’s a nice day.”

“It’s cold.”

Ronan stood when Adam reached his step and gave him a smirk.  “Only if you’re weak-willed.”

Adam rolled his eyes good-naturedly and opened the door.

With a general lack of seating, Adam often found himself plopping on his bed, as he did now.  Ronan hovered, first eyeing the bed and then eyeing the desk chair.  It was a strange thing to see Ronan so visibly uncertain and Adam watched with wonder.  When Ronan finally looked at him, Adam raised an eyebrow questioningly and waited.  Ronan shifted on his feet.  Adam stood.

Stopping about a foot from him, Adam watched Ronan’s eyes study the scattered papers on the desk before finally looking him in the eye.  Adam did his best impression of a silent prompt.

“Last night,” Ronan started and Adam held his breath, “where does that leave us?”

That wasn’t quite what he’d expected.  This also wasn’t quite what he’d imagined earlier at the factory.  “What?”

“It was late, you were tired, I can understand if you want to – ”

“Jesus Christ.”  He was living in a church but blasphemy be damned, this boy was exhausting in the best way.  He pulled Ronan into a kiss just to shut him up.  Ronan’s hands hovered at his sides.  “If I’d known making out with you would loosen your tongue up this much I would’ve, well I would’ve still made out with you.”

Looking slightly winded, Ronan had the composure to send him a sarcastic yet warm look.  “Thanks, Parrish, that’s reassuring.”

Rather than responding, Adam kissed him again.  Ronan responded in kind, gripping bunches of Adam’s shirt at his sides.  They stood there until Adam remembered that he’d been working all day and he was tired of standing.  Pulling back, he smiled at Ronan and stretched out on his bed, letting out a groan as his muscles reminded him they’d be used immensely.  Ronan hovered and Adam patted the bed.  Slowly, the other boy came around to the other side and laid out, long legs tempting the end of the bed.  He was on his side, looking at Adam while not touching him.

Adam reached out delicately and took his hand.  Before the Barns, Ronan had been the one initiating all the touches, the contact between them.  Now that they’d kissed and moved forward, hesitation was the name of Ronan’s game.  It was actually beginning to worry him.  Had he done something wrong?  Had Ronan changed his mind?

Ronan stared at their hands, reading Adam’s mood.  He was frustratingly good at it.  “I’m just getting used to it.  Being allowed.”

While Adam had feared Ronan had changed his mind, Ronan, who felt so strongly and firmly and wholly and _completely_ , had held back for so long he now feared scaring Adam off if it all was let loose.

Adam didn’t know how to express to him that he was here, he’d chosen _him_ , he’d chosen to take whatever Ronan had, so he just kissed him softly.  Because he could.  Because he wanted to.  When he pulled back, Ronan took a breath and asked, “Are you free the rest of the day?”

“I’ve got to go into the garage and finish an inspection,” he said.  “Someone’s special and needs it tomorrow morning.  I can go in later, though; it shouldn’t take me more than an hour or so.”

A pause.  “Wanna go to dinner?”

A beat.  “Like, a date?”

“I don’t know, Jesus, Adam, maybe.  Just thought maybe you were hungry.”

Ronan flustered looked different up close; he looked younger.  “Dinner sounds fine.”

Dinner meant going somewhere familiar, so they ended up at Nino’s.  Ronan slid into a booth, Adam slid in across from him.  To ease the slightly wounded look on Ronan’s face, Adam hooked his ankle with the other boy’s under the table.

A sly smile slid onto Ronan’s face.  “Footsie, Parrish?”

“I’m a classic man.”

The waitress strolled up then.  She looked vaguely familiar but Adam supposed they just came here too often and all the staff had a familiar look.  They ordered their food and then just as the girl was turning, Ronan tacked on, “Large Cookies’n’Cream milkshake.  No cherry.  Two straws, please.”

A significant amount washed over Adam, namely that Ronan remembered his favorite shake flavor despite him rarely ever buying one for financial reasons and that he remembered his hatred of cherries.

An hour later, they had talked and eaten their way to dessert.  Ronan stuck the straws in, one facing either boy, and leaned forward to take a sip, giving Adam an over-the-top seductive look.  Adam smiled and leaned forward.

They were halfway through the shake when it happened.  The door to Nino’s opened, not a peculiar thing, but Adam’s eyes went to the sound despite having heard it through their time there.  In stepped Gansey and Blue.  Out of the corner of his eye, Adam could see Ronan’s reaction to his slightly drained face and as he turned his head to see what the other boy was looking at.  Underneath the table, his ankle pressed into Adam’s.

Gansey saw them before Blue and he waved obnoxiously, pulling Blue with him as he approached.  As they did, Adam became all too aware of what they looked like: legs joined under the table, a single milkshake between them, Adam no doubt looking guilty.  His stomach flipped.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed.  He was still slightly baffled someone like Ronan would want _him_.  It was just, this was all so new.  A deep relationship, giving in.  And Ronan was everything to Gansey; their history and bond was deeper and more woven than Adam could hope to penetrate – not that he planned to.  He didn’t know what Gansey would think and he wasn’t ready to.

As the pair pulled up to the table, Gansey smiled with no indication of knowing anything and Adam breathed.  “What are you two doing here?”

“Eating,” came Ronan’s deadpan reply.  He took a long drawl of the milkshake.  The waitress had put in extra cookie and a solid chunk traveled up the straw.

“Thank you, Ronan,” Gansey said.  Ronan simply shrugged and Gansey must have guessed that was the best he was getting so he turned to Adam.  “If you’d called, we could have met you here.”

Adam fiddled his thumbs.  From beside Gansey, Blue sent him a meaningful look and he sent back his own.  He hoped it translated to “shut up” and “later.”  “We were just hungry,” he answered Gansey.  “We didn’t want to bother you.”

Gansey looked slightly hurt.  “You never bother me.”

Blue nudged him.  “It’s nothing.  We came here without inviting them.”

“That’s right,” Ronan said with fake astonishment and hurt.  “Check and mate, Gansey boy.”

Gansey sent him a long grieving look before suggesting, “Well, how about we join you now?”

Ronan’s ankle pushed Adam’s.  “Nah, we were just leaving.”  Adam caught his cue, finished the shake, and slid out of the booth.  Gansey and Blue moved to make room for them.  “See you guys tomorrow.”

The pair bid them farewell as they headed to the register to pay, Blue giving Adam another meaningful look to make sure he got the message.  Adam could feel Gansey’s lingering gaze on his back as he dug into his pocket to pull out his wallet.  At the register, Ronan pulled out his card and began to hand it to the woman working.

“No, let me pay my half.”  Adam started counting out bills.

“Parrish, I got it.”

“No, seriously –”

“Adam.”  He stopped mid count and looked at Ronan.  “Let me pay.  It’s a date, remember?”

He felt the blood rush his cheeks, increasingly aware of the woman waiting out the encounter.  He lamented.  “I’m paying next time.”

Ronan beamed and handed his card over.  “Anything you say.”

In the car, Ronan said, “So Gansey, huh?” and Adam laughed as he reached for his hand, still a little frazzled.  The taste of ice cream was still on his tongue.

-

The garage’s phone was over a decade old and reminded everyone of this fact by its curled cord that limited movement.  Shoving the wire furiously under his arm, Adam leaned over the engine of the car he was inspecting.  The phone rang three times before someone answered and before he could say a word someone said, “This is Coca Cola, isn’t it?”

“Hi, Orla.”

“Blue’s straining on her tiny tippy toes to reach the phone so I guess I’ll hand it over.  Come visit sometime!”  He heard her pop her gum and then there was fuzz as the phone was shuffled between hands; Blue’s muffled voice snapped at Orla and then she sighed into the receiver.

“Sorry, Adam; the consequences of one phone in a jammed household.”

“Or just in a household with Orla.”  Blue laughed and they fell into a comfortable silence.  With the phone propped between his ear and his shoulder, wire awkwardly wrapped around, Adam checked connectors and oils.  Caught up in the routine check, he forgot he was on the phone and started when Blue finally broke the quiet.

“So, you and Ronan at Nino’s.”

It was a prompt, one Adam wasn’t really sure how to fill.  “Yeah.”

“That’s it? ‘Yeah’?”  She clucked her tongue.  “I demand information and dirt, Adam Parrish, and I demand it now.”

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Okay, well, what were you doing?”

“Getting dinner.”

“Wow.  Thank you, Ronan.  I’ve got the scoop now.”  On the other side, Blue sighed.  “You are not good at this at all.”

“It’s new.”  He said it like an apology and a confession.

“‘It’, huh?  So there’s an ‘it’?  Okay, explain the ‘it’.”  When Adam failed to respond right away, Blue continued, “Are you guys a thing?”

Adam pulled out a board, resituated the phone, and rolled under the car.  The phone’s cord was beginning to strain.  “Define a thing.”

“Are you involved?  Going steady?”  She paused.  “Have you kissed?”

Adam whacked a piece of the car back into place and did not answer.

“Jesus.”  Blue said.  “Oh my god.  Where?  When?”

Sighing, Adam gave in.  “The Barns.  Yesterday.”

Blue was silent as she took it all in and Adam appreciated the quiet to recollect himself.  “How did this happen?  Was it sort of a spontaneous thing or what?  Who kissed who?”

Adam stopped tinkering and just lay still.  “I don’t know.  I guess it’s been building for a while, I mean I knew he liked me but I didn’t think I could give him all that he wanted or needed but we started spending more time together and suddenly it didn’t seem like such an impossible thing.”  Blue breathed into the receiver, waiting.  “It just started out with touches, you know, little things.  Holding hands – ”

“You guys have been holding hands? This is the cutest thing I’ve ever not seen played out.”

“Shut up.”  His cheeks heated and he allowed quiet for a moment.  “I kissed him.”

There was a noise on the other end that didn’t quite sound human and then Blue was back.  “Adam I’m so proud of you!  I didn’t think you’d take the initiative.  Noah believed in you though.”

“Have you guys just been having casual talks about Ronan and I’s personal life?”

“Yeah.”  The ease with which she admitted it was only slightly worrying.  “But it’s just because we want you two to be happy and we think you two are good for each other.”

“Thanks, Blue,” he said, “I appreciate it.”

“No problemo,” she drawled.  She breathed in and the tone changed.  “Adam, I really appreciate you calling and telling me this.  It feels good to share with you again.”

“Yeah, just so long as it stays between us.  I don’t know how open Ronan wants to be; hell, I don’t know how open _I_ want to be.  It’s just really new and I want this . . . I want this to go right.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, Adam, absolutely.”

“And I don’t know when we’re gonna break it to Gansey.”

“You say it like it’s bad news.  He’ll be thrilled for you two!  Once he gets over the shock of it all.”

“I think it’s best if we just hold off for now.  Until me and Ronan have it figured out for ourselves?”

“Of course.  My lips are sealed.”  There was muffled talking that Adam quietly worked through.  “Orla wants the phone again so I’ve gotta go but thank you for all you’ve told me and keep me updated – specifically anymore trips to the Barns for make out sessions!”

Adam shook his head, smiling.  “Goodnight, Blue.”

“Goodnight, Adam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> similar to how i know nothing about football, i know shit-all about cars! so again if you know anything at all i'm so sorry for any car stuff i write it must be painful


	11. Chapter 11

The seventh game was an away game.  Adam found himself at the garage instead of the football stadium though at the moment it felt no quieter.  A well worn radio cracked out an oldies station while his coworkers yelled conversations and companionable insults at each other over the sounds of drills and blow torches and clanging metal.  As usual, Adam worked in silence in a station away from the others.  He loved cars – loved the way they run, the mechanics, the power beneath the hood – but he could usually do without all the commotion; he liked to enjoy this work in solitude.  It didn’t help that he was significantly younger than the other mechanics.

“Hey, kid!”  Jostled from his thoughts, Adam looked up from the engine he was working on.  “What’s got you so stuck in your head tonight?  We haven’t been seein’ ya Fridays.”

Across the garage, Bobby laughed.  “Lady trouble, no doubt, Terry.  This one’s a mad heartbreaker, I’m telling you all.  No one woman can resist that pure Henrietta charm.”

It wasn’t meant to be mean in nature but Adam’s eyes flitted to the pinups around the garage and suddenly felt very isolated.  He’d never been at odds with his coworkers here but he also wasn’t confident in sharing his personal life with them.  In truth, though, Ronan had been filling his thoughts and blocking out the noise.  “I’ve been going to football games.”

Seth chuckled.  “Yeah, I remember those.  Eyeing the cheerleaders and making out with the girl of the week under the bleachers.  Good times.”

“As if you had more than one girl in high school.”  

This snide circled them again into good natured insults and conversation and Adam was quick to separate himself and return to work.  Ronan returned to his thoughts and quiet washed over him.  As he changed oil, he thought of Ronan two counties away, catching a pass, sprinting to a touchdown, and a small smile fell over his face as he counted down the minutes until he could go home.

-

Adam was home and asleep by the time the football players returned from the game and Ronan had told him he wouldn’t disturb what little sleep he got by barging in.  Working all day Saturday, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to see Ronan again until Sunday which wasn’t great for his mood.  He’d only seen him sparingly throughout the week, both busy, schedules never really matching up, and it frustrated Adam that now that he could touch and kiss Ronan – and found that he really, really wanted to –, he was never around him enough to do it.  He really wanted to kiss Ronan.  It was therapeutic. 

Not having a shift until the afternoon, Adam allowed himself to sleep in Sunday to recuperate after his busy shifts the day before.  He woke, suddenly, and wasn’t sure why until there was a knock at the door.  Groggily, he rolled out of bed and, rubbing at his eyes, opened the door.

Adam wasn’t sure what exactly he had been expecting but Ronan Lynch in his Sunday best was certainly not it.  Completely opposite to what Adam usually saw him in, the outfit had a paralyzing effect on him.  The suit was well made, obviously fitted for Ronan as it lay perfectly across his shoulders and hugged the curve of his sides; the tie was, for once, perfectly tied and settled.  The suit was light gray, complementing the blue of his eyes, and thick enough to keep out the late autumn chill but not enough to overheat. 

He felt goosebumps run over his arms as said chill whistled in through the open door.  Standing only in pajama pants and a tee shirt, Adam wasn’t protected against the bite.  Finally bringing his eyes up to Ronan’s face, he suddenly remembered _what_ tee shirt.

Saturday had been such a long and stressful day, the knowledge that he wouldn’t see Ronan topped even further on top of the overall exhaustion and frustration.  By the time he’d gotten home, well after dark, body and mind tired, he’d needed some form of comfort and relaxation.  Without Ronan there to provide, he’d grabbed the next best thing: a forgotten shirt enveloped in Ronan’s smell.  It had done the trick and he’d felt calmer as he had collapsed onto the bed.

Now, Ronan was staring at it with the same look as Adam had looking at his suit.  Face beet red, Adam crossed his arms and shifted on his feet.  “Come in or leave, just please shut the door.”

Ronan, of course, came in.  After shutting the door, he continued his visual devouring.  “That’s my shirt.”

“Yeah,” Adam stammered out.  “I was tired last night; I must have just grabbed it in the dark.”

Apparently not hearing Adam, Ronan said, “I mean, I’d known you’d been wearing them, but seeing you in them –”

“It was just an – wait what?”  Adam’s brain caught up with his ear.  Heat blossomed on his face and shot down his neck, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to be swallowed by the earth.  “You knew?”

“Yeah,” Ronan replied casually, still staring at the shirt, as if this wasn’t shattering Adam’s world as he knew it.  “Chainsaw reacted differently to them whenever you gave them back and some had even begun to smell like you.”

Though Adam felt like he’d been caught red handed, Ronan wasn’t responding the way he thought he might so he felt safe to quietly admit, “It’s comforting.”

Ronan met his eyes then, finally, and something churned in them.  He took a step forward, into Adam’s space, and placed his hands on Adam’s sides, the shirt pressed tight beneath his fingers.  Adam’s body sang, desperate for a touch he’d grown accustomed to and craved when separated from.  It was a new feeling, this overall desperation, but it made Adam feel alive and awake.

Adam’s hands found Ronan’s face and they met halfway in a kiss.  It was desperate and slick and an outsider might have thought they’d been separated for months rather than a few days but Adam was beginning to see that he was needy and was glad to find Ronan was just as such. 

When they pulled back, panting, Ronan kept his face close.  “You’re in _my_ clothes.”

“And you’re in a suit,” Adam replied, pulling at his tie.  “Like a put together, all out suit.  I’ve never seen you look this nice.  Ronan, it’s overwhelming.”

Ronan’s head ducked and Adam tilted his head when it found itself at his neck.  Ronan inhaled, lips light and ticklish against Adam’s sensitive skin as he said, “Now I’ll just have to wear some of yours.”

“God,” Adam breathed, “you can take my whole wardrobe if I can have yours.”

Letting all the air rush out of his lungs, Ronan came back to Adam’s mouth, this time bringing a hand to his face to caress his jaw while Adam’s found their way into Ronan’s jacket, pulling him closer.  The kiss was deep and took all of the air out of Adam’s body.

When they broke apart to breathe, once they both regrettably remembered they needed air to live, Adam began to lightly laugh into Ronan’s jaw.  Ronan let out a questioning hum into his hearing ear.  It took a few more moments before Adam could say, “Us, Ronan, we’re just ridiculous.  We’re so desperate after two days.”

Ronan pulled back to look him in the face.  “It’s been years.”  He lightened it with a smile but the truth of it, of Ronan’s wait, settled low in Adam’s stomach. 

Slowly, he disentangled himself from Ronan.  He felt the pull, Ronan’s restrained need to hold him and never let go.  Adam sat on his bed and edged back a bit so he was more secure and watched as Ronan shrugged off his suit jacket, draped it across the back of Adam’s old office chair, rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie.  It was perhaps one of the most sexual things Adam had ever witnessed and he didn’t know whether to curse the devil or thank the heavens for the experience.  Apparently ignorant of Adam’s plight, Ronan glanced around, wheels turning, and said, “You have a significant lack of seating, Parrish.”

He didn’t know where it came from, but something in Adam’s gut made him say, “There’s always my lap.”

Ronan looked like he’d taken a hit to the chest.  Though it was quiet, Adam’s hearing ear just heard the breathed, “Jesus,” that escaped his mouth.  After a moment Ronan reached the bed and widened his thighs around Adam’s knees, edging them onto the bed and him slowly settled into Adam’s lap.  This all played agonizingly slow in Adam’s eyes, the stretch of the tailored suit pants against thigh, the bunching of dress shirt.

Ronan Lynch sat in his lap.  Ronan Lynch’s bent legs pressed into his sides.  Ronan Lynch’s ass pressed into his thighs.  It took a moment for these facts to grasp reality in Adam’s head and when it did he found himself blinded by the white heat of _feeling_ he suddenly experienced.  Church below be damned, _this_ was a religious experience.

Ronan draped one arm casually across Adam’s shoulder and brought his other hand up to cup his neck, thumb placed lightly on his Adam’s apple.  Feeling overjoyed that Ronan was beginning to utilize his ability to freely touch, Adam brought his hands to Ronan’s waist.  The dress shirt was soft and slightly wrinkled where it disappeared into pants.  Whoever leaned first was forgotten as they met in a deep but unhurried kiss.  It was explorative, this thing still new, and Adam was loving learning.

Ronan pulled back.  Adam watched the deep rise and fall of his chest.  When his breath was caught, Ronan leaned forward and down until their noses brushed.  “What time do you go to work?”

“Four.”

This brought a wicked grin to Ronan’s face and Adam didn’t know whether to be scared or excited.  The mix in his stomach certainly felt excited, though.  “All the time in the world, then.”

Ronan was a bit taller than Adam so he had to bend considerably from his perch on Adam’s lap to reach his neck.  And it was his neck to which he went.  Adam instinctively, like a reflex, turned his head to expose skin to Ronan’s seeking mouth.  Ronan had hovered over Adam’s neck before, breathed and brushed, but never a solid hit.  Now, he pressed a solid kiss right under Adam’s ear.  He pressed another right below it and continued down the length of his neck, his touch becoming increasingly lighter and more teasing as he went.  When he reached the juncture of neck and shoulder, where Ronan’s shirt rested lightly on Adam’s skin, he pressed hard again, the hint of teeth scraping the shirt and skin.  Ronan reversed his trail, going back up Adam’s neck, increasing his pressure as he went.  When he reached Adam’s jaw, he followed the line of the bone around to the other side of Adam’s neck where he continued his trail of kisses.  Adam, in a trance, turned his head where needed, barely feeling conscious.  He felt hardly permanent, like a ghost who’s only existence were Ronan’s lips against his skin.

When he’d found himself back on his original side of Adam’s neck, Ronan opened his mouth.  The wet brought Adam back into some semblance of reality.  Then Ronan sucked.  Unexpectedly, Adam let out a noise eerily close to a moan and Ronan pulled back, though his head fell forward to rest against Adam’s as if separating their skin was too much.  If anything, if possible, he looked more wrecked than Adam felt.  His eyes were blown, his lips shiny pink, yet his look still asked for permission.

“I’ve gotta work later,” Adam somehow managed to put together.

“It’s cold,” Ronan murmured against his lips and smiled.  “Wear a turtle neck.”

Adam was silent for a bit, just taking in Ronan.  He pressed his lips forward because he could and played momentarily with Ronan’s bottom lip because he could and just looked at the openness in Ronan’s face because he could and he suddenly didn’t think he could say no to Ronan’s mouth on his skin even if he wanted to.  He pressed a small kiss to Ronan’s chin and said, “Keep it low.”

Grinning like an eager puppy, Ronan kissed his way back down Adam’s neck, lower than he had been before, and started on a hickey.  In a startling moment, Adam remembered this was his first hickey and, likely, the first hickey Ronan had given.  He imagined they were going to be the firsts for a lot of things for each other.

As Ronan swiped a tongue over the bruising skin, Adam’s hands tightened in the fabric of Ronan’s dress shirt and pulled it from where it tucked into the dress pants.  With an opening, Adam slid his hands under the dress shirt and undershirt and pressed them into Ronan’s skin.  Ronan inhaled sharply against Adam’s neck, pulled from his work by the contact.  Adam continued, sliding his hands up and around to his back, exploring Ronan’s expanse of skin with his fingertips, tracing where he knew the tattoo was.  Catching his breath, Ronan dragged his lips against Adam’s skin as he moved to the other side of Adam’s neck and started on a new hickey.

Adam’s hands came back around to Ronan’s front, tracing his ribs before moving, splayed, upward.  When the tip of his middle finger brushed against a nipple, Ronan’s mouth broke from Adam’s neck, his head fell to Adam’s shoulder, and he let out a low, deep moan. 

Adam froze, his hot pounding heart settling low in his stomach.  On its own, his finger brushed again, and Ronan let out a barely audible whimper and his hips jerked.  Adam’s pajama pants and the boxers underneath were not thick and the scrape of Ronan’s dress pants winded him.  He breathed heavily into Ronan’s ear while Ronan found the reserve to press his mouth to Adam’s neck again.  It distracted Adam and sent a shock through his body, jolting his hips up.  Ronan met the jerk with his own.

For a few moments, it was mindless.  Adam’s hands thoughtlessly scraping Ronan’s skin, Ronan’s mouth sucking on Adam’s neck without care, their hips bucking uncoordinated.  Adam’s mind came back to him all at once and it felt like he’d lost control, like he’d been pulled back and pressed back in.  It suddenly felt too fast.  His stomach clenched, a cruel twist.

“Ronan,” he garbled out and pressed firmly against Ronan’s abdomen.  Ronan hummed against his neck.  “Ronan, wait.”

Like he'd been shocked, Ronan pulled away from his neck and sat back on Adam’s thighs; Adam was appreciative of the separation of their hips.  Carefully, methodically, Adam brought his hands out from under the shirts.  Ronan, still looking thoroughly winded and wrecked, looked worried and concerned and guilty. “What’s wrong?  What’d I do?”  His voice was thick.

“Nothing, nothing,” Adam tried to reassure him; he didn’t want to scare him away but he almost felt like he was going to throw up.  He grabbed Ronan’s hand and squeezed hard, trying to ground Ronan as well as himself.  He could feel himself shaking.  “I just think, I think that’s too fast.”

“Shit, Adam, I didn’t mean to press –”

“It’s not your fault,” Adam cut him off.  “Shit.  _Shit_.  I’m sorry.”   

“Don’t apologize, dumbass,” Ronan said, voice fond and low and calm.  Adam gave him a weak smile.

They both took a moment to recompose themselves and when both of their breathing had returned to normal, Adam pulled Ronan down into a quick kiss and the latter carefully removed himself from Adam’s lap.  They were silent for a few more moments before Ronan comfortably nudged Adam.  “What do you want to do before you have to work?”

“Do you want to go for a drive?”

Ronan grinned wolfishly.  “I’m always up for a drive.”

Adam smiled back at him and twined their fingers together as Ronan scooped up his car keys and bounded down the stairs to the BMW, pulling Adam with him.  Electricity sparked through his veins as Ronan peeled out of the gravel lot, hand still curled with Adam’s, and Adam reminded himself, his body, touch is good, touch is okay.  Ronan is good.  It’s okay.

And it felt okay.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i'm the Worst™  
> between work and class i'm absolutely swamped but hopefully i can find a writing and posting rhythm through it all

Wednesday was a free day.  Football practice had been canceled due to the half-frozen rain that had started coming down halfway through the school day.   Blue was off work and Adam had finished what he’d needed to do at the garage today on Monday and was pointedly ignoring his trigonometry for the moment.  So the group of friends found themselves hidden from the weather under the safe roof of Monmouth.  It felt like ages since they’d all been together, just being teenagers without an agenda of school or dead kings.  Never used to just being a teenager, Adam was relishing the time.

At the pool table, Ronan and Blue were attempting to play a game.  Their progress was overall slowed due to neither really knowing how the game worked and the presence of Noah continuously laying across the table and moving the balls around.  Gansey peaked out from the bathroom/kitchen/laundry room every so often to see how they were all doing.  In this rare moment where they were all together, relatively locked in, and hungry, he’d offered to make them dinner “like a good parent.”  Ronan had grumbled at the phrase, the running joke that kept him out of the passenger seat continuing to irritate him.

Adam lounged on the couch, legs kicked up and head propped by pillows.  Bought on a stress impulse a month before, Gansey’s couch was big and expensive and the soft leather could swallow you whole, and Adam liked to lay on it because it was comfortable and it reminded him what he wanted to afford one day. 

“Noah.”  Ronan’s growl was low but harmless.  “I swear to God if you move the solid three one more time I’m throwing you out the window.”

“That’s only threatening the first time you do it,” Noah replied flippantly, defiantly giving the solid three a gentle prod.  Ronan shot out a hand to smack his away but Noah was quicker and slipped around the corner of the table with a giggle.

“Why do you care about solid three?”  Blue asked.  “You’re stripes.”

“What?  No, I’m solid, you’re stripes.”

“No,” Blue said deliberately, “when we were deciding you said you didn’t want to be solid because they’re too bold.”

“Shit.”

Blue looked triumphant.  Ronan resituated and aimed his stick to hit the cue at a stripe.  As his arm pulled back, Adam glimpsed a hickey from behind the collar of his jacket.  The sight of it sent a thrill through him.  They’d exchanged them throughout the week and the collar of Adam’s sweater reminded him of his fading ones.  The continuous decreasing temperatures gave them both excuses to cover them.  The thought, though, that at any moment any of the others could see them was the peak of the high.  Adam couldn’t tell if he wanted someone to see or not, a game he was still learning how to play.

Ronan’s ball missed.  As Blue lined up her shot, Ronan scratched absentmindedly at his neck, paused as he hit a hickey, and sent Adam a smirk even as Adam could see light heating of his cheeks.  In response, Adam pulled on his collar, exposing one fading mark, and outlined it lightly with his finger.  The color from Ronan’s face drained and his smirk dropped.  Adam was toeing a line here.  Noah was off bothering Gansey in the other room and Blue’s back was turned as she perfected her stance.  At any moment, Noah could return, Blue could turn around, Gansey could reappear.

As Ronan took a step in his direction, Adam let go of his collar, and Gansey appeared with platters. 

“Food’s done!”

Ronan kept his eyes pointedly on Adam for a moment longer and then he turned.  “Just in time, too.  I was about to crush your girlfriend.”

“As if, Lynch,” Blue set her pool stick against the wall, “you’d just figured out which balls you’re supposed to go after.”  Noah laughed, Blue thwacked his arm.

Gansey ignored them as he laid out the food on the pool table, carefully placing them in spaces where the balls wouldn’t be disturbed even if the game was pointless anyway.  Despite having ample money and space, Gansey lacked an actual table so the pool table acted as buffet and trays were set up.

There were four plates on the pool table, each with a lightly steaming selection.  There were chicken breasts with light green seasonings on one plate, creamy mash potatoes on another, golden macaroni and cheese on a third, and chocolate chip cookies on the last, melting chocolate shining. 

Noah went to the dessert first.   When he picked up a cookie, it bent slightly, clearly fresh.  Blue hovered over Noah’s shoulder as he shoved it in his mouth.  “Are those freshly baked?  You baked cookies while you were in there?”

“Yeah,” Gansey said offhandedly as a timer went off.  “And there’s my next batch.”  He disappeared for a moment while Adam and Blue gawked at each other.  Noah ate another cookie.

Gansey returned and they started down the pool table.  As Adam put a chicken breast on his plate and heaped mashed potatoes, he absentmindedly said, “I don’t think I’ve been fed this well in my life.”  He immediately wished he’d been able to control his stupid mouth; he could practically feel the weight of their pity.  Now he would never be able to eat Gansey’s food without feeling like his friend made it with this statement in mind.

Ronan eyed his stiffness and cleared his throat, “Maggot can’t reach the food.”

Blue, who was in fact struggling to reach the macaroni, grumbled, “Maybe if Gansey had an actual table like an actual human being.”

“I won’t be shamed for my decisions concerning furniture.” 

While Gansey reached over to help Blue get food, Adam put a cookie on his plate and sent Ronan an appreciative look. 

The food tasted as good as it looked.  The chicken was tender and filling, the potatoes smooth and buttered, the macaroni just cheesy enough, and the cookies still warm, oozing chocolate.  When he finished, Adam felt like he’d never truly been full until this very moment.

“I’m going to be honest,” Blue said around a cookie, “when you said you were cooking for us, I was skeptical but damn, Gansey, that was _good_.”

“There’s an insult in there but I’m going to say thank you.”

“Your childhood meals were probably all cooked by professionals and hand fed to you by staff.  Excuse me for being surprised you know what a kitchen looks like.”

Ronan butt in.  “Wait until you try his omelets.”

“He’s cooked for you?”  Blue turned on him.  “I don’t know whether I’m angry that you hid this knowledge from us or grateful you just let us experience it.”

Ronan shrugged and stretched out on the couch to let his food settle, legs coming to lay across Adam’s lap.  Adam’s head rested against the back of the couch and he turned it to look at him.  Ronan’s face gave him permission to throw his legs off if it were too far, but Adam laid his hands casually on Ronan’s ankles.  This was fine.  This was okay.  Ronan’s eyes were lit.

They spent the rest of the night in with the rhythm of the rain off the windows as background noise.  Once their food had settled and the dishes, scraped clean, were in the sink, another game of pool was attempted.  They separated into teams, Blue and Noah, Ronan and Adam, while Gansey stood as referee.  Gansey displayed patience as he attempted to explain the game, the rules, the best way to hold the pool stick.  That patience was strained as his students continuously ignored him and hit whatever they wanted.  When Ronan’s ball knocked another that Blue was going after, she retaliated by whacking him in the back of the knee with her stick.  Gansey called a foul – Adam didn’t know pool but he wasn’t sure there were that kind of fouls – and Ronan began chasing Blue to retaliate.  Noah hopped on the table and cheered for his teammate.

Adam had never felt so at peace.

-

The eighth game was away for a second week in a row.

At work, Adam’s needy ass couldn’t stop missing Ronan.  His hand found his neck as he stood back to consider a car but his hickeys had healed.  Ronan’s had been nearly gone last night and likely weren’t visible today when his neck was bare at the game.  Unable to stop the spread of disappointment, he considered if they’d been visible.  Ronan’s neck covered, marked, clearly claimed for his teammates to see.  For Gansey to see.  Adam shivered and crouched back over the engine in front of him.

His thoughts drifted to Wednesday night.  It had gotten late enough and the rain had subsided so Adam had said his goodbyes, Blue also stating she needed to get home.  Ronan had walked Adam to his car while Blue gathered her stuff in Monmouth.  At his car, Adam leaned against the driver door, shoved his cold hands under Ronan’s jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss.  It was short and when he had pulled back, Ronan glanced back at the front door.  “They could come out at any time.”

Adam smiled.  “I know.  Is that okay?”

A grin had spread across Ronan’s face.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that’s peachy.”

Biting his lip through his smile, Adam had pressed another kiss.  “I’m actually freezing my ass though, so I’m going to leave.  See you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Adam had driven home with Ronan in the rearview mirror.  He thought it’d be more frightening, being open.  The possibility of others finding out.  It had been, he supposed, when the touches had began, when this began.  But now, everything was real and constant and he was cared about in a way he hadn’t really been cared about and he was proud to be with Ronan and he kind of wanted people to know about it.

“No football?” Terry’s call pulled him from his thoughts and his head jolted up.

Adam shook his head.  “Away game.”

“Ah,” Terry said and wiped oil from his hands onto an already black rag.  “Next week, though?”

“It’s home.  I’ll be there.”

“Ay, good for you!  You’ve got a devotion to your school I never had.  If I don’t see you the rest of the week, have fun, kid.”

Adam nodded his thanks and got back to work as Terry did.  Just as his thoughts were drifting back to Ronan, John got his attention.  “You have young eyes, come look at this for me.”  Adam wiped his hands and went to his work station.  “Muffler’s been bouncing but I can’t find the holder to tighten it back.  Can you see it?”

Adam lay on the board John had vacated and slid under the end of the car.  “It’s rusted away, that’s why.  Grab me some wire, I’ll tie it to something.” 

When John handed him the wire and Adam got to work, he asked, “You’re a senior this year, right?”

Adam nodded and then realized John couldn’t see his head.  “Yeah.”

“I don’t remember you being this interested in football in the past years.”

“I, uh, just kind of picked it up this year.”  He considered before adding, “My friends play.”

“Oh, that’s good you support them.  I didn’t attend any social or sport events in high school; here I am some thirty odd years later and I kind of wish I had.”  There was silence for a moment.  “How’s your team doing?”

Adam rolled out.  “Can you hand me something to cut the wire?”

“Oh, yeah, o’ course.”

 John handed him the tool, and Adam rolled back under.  After a moment, he replied, “They’re doing pretty good.  They’ve only lost one game.”

Adam heard a chuckle.  “My senior year, our football team lost all but two games.  It was a rough year.”

Finished, Adam rolled out and stood up.  “All fixed and tight.”

“Well, hey, thanks Adam.  I’ll let you get back to work then.”  Adam nodded and headed back to his station.  John called, “Good luck to your team’s continued success!”  Adam tossed a hand up in acknowledgement. 

The rest of his shift was relatively peaceful, everyone keeping to themselves.  Adam found their quietness slightly odd but a nice change of pace.  Before he even really realized it, Adam was off and he desperately urged his car to heat up on the drive home.

He found Ronan in his apartment when he arrived.  Stretched out on the bed, Ronan was already in his pajamas, sweat pants and a black tee shirt, waiting patiently.  He was fiddling with his phone but when Adam came in he tossed it at his duffel bag on the floor.  Scooping some clothes off the floor, Adam waved at Ronan, and then went straight for the bathroom, showered, and changed.  When he came out he stretched out beside Ronan.

“How was work?”  Ronan’s tone was playful, joking, but Adam also knew he legitimately wanted to know.

“Quiet.”

“At the garage?” Adam hummed confirmation.  “Hell must have frozen over.”  Adam laughed and finally moved closer to Ronan.

It was late.  Adam didn’t know what time exactly and it was a weird feeling that he didn’t care to know and didn’t worry to know.  With Ronan, time didn’t exist and it didn’t matter.

Once they’d gotten situated, their ankles were crisscrossed at the bottom of the bed, where Adam’s extra blanket was crumpled, and Ronan had one of Adam’s hands captive.  He lay Adam’s hand across his own delicately, tracing each long, bony finger slowly, deliberately.  With a feather light touch, he outlined each knuckle, each protrusion, each chord.  He then turned the hand over, flattening out the palm with a caress, and mapped out the lines crisscrossing his hand, slowly committing the landscape to memory. 

It itched, the tickle of the light touch, but Adam kept himself still.  Ronan had been at it for an estimated ten minutes, gently playing with his hands, filling Adam’s ever growing need for touch, and Adam had found himself content to just stare at Ronan’s concentrated face.

“I love your hands.”  It was quiet, a soft murmured thing and if Adam had his hearing ear to the pillow instead of his deaf one, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it at all. 

The confession seemed obvious, given the last ten minutes, but thrilled him nonetheless.

“I used to,” Ronan started and broke off with a puff of air similar to a laugh.  “I used to think about this thumb in particular.”  He grabbed Adam’s thumb and dangled his hand by it.  “The jut of it.  The length.  The shape.  And your knuckles,” Ronan placed Adam’s hand back into his palm and looped a finger around his knuckles, “your knuckles, back when this first started, I used to think about split and bloodied after you finally fought back against your father.”  Adam stiffened, minutely, and Ronan quickly added, “You beat him in a better way though.  Now it’s on paper.”  Ronan’s touch began down his fingers again.  “Your fingers, I keep thinking about – even dreamt once – well, I keep wanting to – ”  Ronan stopped to breathe and brought Adam’s hand to his mouth, placing light kisses on each finger.  When he pulled it back, he said, “I guess I can do that now.”

Adam gently pulled his hand from Ronan’s and placed it on Ronan’s cheek, finally bringing his eyes up.  It didn’t last long as Ronan quickly closed them, letting in and out shaky breaths.  “I love your hands.”

A smile blossomed on Adam’s face and a soundless laugh tilted his head until it bumped into Ronan’s.  When he looked back up, Ronan’s eyes were open again.  “So you mentioned.”

“I just don’t think you get it yet.  I love _your_ hands, Adam.  Christ, and when they’re _on_ me – fuck I mean not like that – but like now, shit, or when you hold my hand it’s just,” he trailed off, looking frustrated, before exhaling, “fuck.”

Adam’s smile was gone now.  He pulled Ronan’s face closer and his breath ghosted across Adam’s lips.  “I love your hands.  I still don’t think you get it but I’m going to keep saying it until you do and long after.  I love your hands.  I love your hands.  I love your –”

He was interrupted by Adam’s mouth.  Adam’s hand migrated down toward Ronan’s neck where his finger reached around to scratch his hair line while Ronan’s hand landed on Adam’s side, gripping lightly into his tee shirt.  It set fire to Adam’s skin.

It was thrilling and terrifying and wonderful that Ronan could do this to him.  Could take him from comfortable caresses to a pounding heart and need in an instant.  Ronan unknowingly had all this power over him and suddenly Adam caught a glimpse of what Ronan might have experienced in the past years.

Ronan’s hands found where Adam’s shirt met his pants and placed themselves there.  After a moment, Adam reached down to bring them under the hem, touching the bare skin of his side.  While hot blooded, Ronan’s hands were perpetually cold and Adam shivered at the contact.

They made out for a while, Ronan’s hands becoming more brazen after more prompting, before Adam pulled in and rolled on top of Ronan, keeping their mouths connected.  Adam had been pushing the touches ever since his freak out, trying to train himself out of fear, to convince himself he was comfortable with Ronan.  Which he was.  He’d never been as comfortable with someone as he was with Ronan.  It was his body that was lagging; his body that just needed to get with the program.  Now, he pulled back, letting go of Ronan’s bottom lip with a light smack.  Pausing, Adam breathed and waited for the shaking and panic to set in, for the fear of intimacy to sneak up.  Another breath, nothing but clarity.  A surge of excitement and Adam pressed another kiss to Ronan’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

Ronan looked up questioningly.  “How far?”

Adam shrugged and ground his hips down, a buzz of excitement in his bones.  “A little dry humping never killed anybody.”

With a groan, Ronan threw an arm over his face but Adam could still see the touch of red.  “It might kill _me_.”

Adam laughed and leaned down, pulling Ronan’s arm out of the way so he could look him in the eye, peck a kiss.  “I’m tired anyway.  I’ve got to work shit shifts tomorrow.”  Nothing had to happen.  The mere fact something _could_ and panic would stay away was enough to make Adam’s night.

He rolled off and Ronan rolled with him.  To lay with his hearing ear up, how he preferred to sleep, and spoon, they had to switch sides so there was some awkward shuffling but eventually they settled both on their sides, Ronan curled around Adam’s back.  His hand pulled up on Adam’s shirt and pressed against his chest while his toes wiggled between Adam’s legs.  They were freezing.

“Christ, Ronan, why don’t you just wear socks to bed?  Your feet are ice.”

“What kind of savage wears socks to bed?”  Ronan said.  “Anyway, maybe they’re cold because it’s ten degrees in your apartment.  Honestly, I’m pretty sure it’s colder in here than it is outside.  It’s not even winter yet.”

“You can sleep out there if you want.”

Ronan pulled Adam a little closer.  “Nah.  Inside has some better perks.”  Adam could feel his smirk on the back of his neck.  “A better ass too.”

Adam laughed despite himself.  “That wasn’t even funny.”

“Fuck off, I’m hilarious.”  Adam was going to respond but a kiss to the base of his neck stilled him.  “Go to sleep.”

So he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just love these teens being teens, just hanging out and goofing around. they deserve it and those are my favorite scenes to write


	13. Chapter 13

Ronan sent Adam off to his double shifts with scrambled eggs and a packed lunch to eat between.  It was so overwhelming domestic; the feeling buzzed in his chest all the way to his first shift.  He didn’t even know where Ronan had found the ingredients.

The shifts left him exhausted and when he got home at the end of the night, he half-expected Ronan to be there to collapse on, as he so often was. 

When he turned into the gravel lot, however, the BMW was nowhere to be seen, and Adam’s door was locked when he reached it.  In one breath, Adam was disappointed, but in the other he was quietly relieved.  He had homework to do and the times he had done most of his homework crunch were recently being devoted to laying around with Ronan.  And making out with Ronan.

Not that he didn’t enjoy those times with Ronan.  It was good, he was learning, to relax and not think about homework every free second he found.  The mantra that had developed in his brain to remind him of all he had to do had quieted since things had developed and he found himself even just the slightest bit less tired due to its absence.

Despite how things had been turning for the better in his life though, he still had homework.  With a heave, he set his stuff aside, sat at his desk, and got to work.

-

Homework collided with work and deadlines and life in a most disappointing manner which meant the time Adam spent with Ronan mostly consisted of Ronan playing with Chainsaw and listening to music across the bed while Adam slaved away at the desk.  Ronan would occasionally massage out the knots or interject for some much needed breaks, but they didn’t have actual time together until Wednesday.  Adam had a shift immediately afterschool and didn’t get home until evening.  People casually strolled out of the broad church doors as he pulled up so there must have been some sort of mid-week meeting.  As he stepped out of his car, sweating and greasy, Adam ignored all the eyes of the attendees’ curious gazes.  After he’d entered and the door clicked shut behind him, Adam heard the door open and close again.  A glance over his shoulder showed Ronan.

“Wanna go for food?”

Adam pulled off his dirty work shirt and searched for a clean one.  “Did you go to the Bible study?  With all those old people?”

“Maybe.  Food?”

Finding a relatively clean shirt – he hadn’t had a chance to do laundry in a while – Adam pulled it over his head.  “I’ve got time.  Nino’s?”

“Nah, let’s mix it up.  Somewhere kind of nice.  Straight people shit.”  Adam glanced down at his wrinkled, slightly dirty shirt.  “Not too nice.”

Nice but not too nice meant somewhere slightly out of town that was not frequented by rich Raven boys and was sit down but not incredibly fancy.  It was an Establishment rather than a fast food joint and Adam felt their relationship become slightly more validated by this more adult date setting.  Though not too adult.  Adam was still in a wrinkly old tee shirt.

They were seated at a two seat table in a cozy corner a little outside of the center of the restaurant.  Their waitress, Kasey, was very smiley and very nice and Adam immediately felt comfortable with her.

Dinner was nice.  Dinner was normal.  Dinner made him feel like a normal human being and not like someone who was supernaturally connected to a magic forest and who’s friends were all varying degrees of ethereal people and who was dating someone who could dream up physical objects.

At one point, Ronan’s hand came to rest casually on the table and Adam, whilst taking a drink, had reached across and grabbed hold unconsciously.  They stayed that way until it became too awkward to eat at which time they both, grinning, let go.

They ended up holding hands again when Kasey brought them the check.  They thanked her and she hovered, twirled her thumbs.  “I’m really sorry, I don’t mean to be _that person_ but I just want you to know it’s really great seeing you two together.  I was always so nervous and scared when I went out with my girlfriend and it just gives me a lot of hope and happiness to see you guys, not that much younger than me, out.  I’m just really happy for you.”

She smiled and left.

Adam didn’t know what it was, but finding out she wasn’t straight was like a smack in the face.  A light smack.  More like a caress.  In smaller towns like Henrietta, it was easy to feel like there was nothing but straightness around, no one else like you.  Kasey was living a life, an adult life, with her girlfriend.  Lately, Adam had stopped thinking so much about the future and rather thought more about the following week, but now he thought about the future and thought _possible_.  He’d never been playing at making it with Ronan, he was committed, but meeting someone who was Alive and Making It made the future seem a more tangible idea.

Ronan reached for the check the same time Adam did.  Adam reminded Ronan that he’d promised they’d alternate paying.  Ronan reminded Adam that he’d paid for their burgers on a quick lunch earlier that week.  Played at his own game, Adam let Ronan pay with the suspicion Ronan had instigated the burgers with the plan to pay for this more expensive meal.  He let it pass.

They walked out of the restaurant holding hands and when the night air hit them, Adam felt Ronan shiver.  He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled Ronan in, rubbing his arm and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.  The parking lot lights lit their path to the BMW as well as the other half dozen or so people making their ways to their cars.  They walked to the car glued to each other’s sides with stupid grins and when Ronan untangled himself to open Adam’s door like a real gentleman, Adam rewarded him with a kiss.

-

“I told Blue.” Adam wasn’t sure quite what made him bring it up as they lay for a few moments together on a homework break.  Ronan was stretched across the bed, still contently digesting their dinner.

“Huh?”  Ronan turned his head to look at Adam, his stubbly scalp bristling against the pillow.

“About us kissing.  The first time.  She knew something was up and insisted I call her and, honestly, I was freaking out a little bit so I needed to just let someone else know about it.”  He was silent for a moment.  “I should have told you earlier, sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Adam was expecting a hint of anger, possibly at a breach of privacy, but instead Ronan broke into a fit of laughter. 

“No way.  No fucking way,” he managed between huffs.

“What?”

“ _I_ called Sargent,” Ronan said, “I was freaking out too, man.  I gushed to her like a fucking twelve-year-old.  Looking back, I did think she took the news pretty smoothly but I was too nervous to really pay attention.  Guess you got to her first.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell us.”

“Should’ve known, the maggot.  She was trying to pull more dirt from us.”

“Hasn’t she got enough of her own?”

Ronan raised a brow.  “What with her whole kissing ban?  Her and Gansey barely got any dirt.”

“Guess we’ll have to make up the difference.”

A huff left Ronan, like a laugh he wasn’t expecting.  “Why, Mr. Parrish, so forward.”

A grin spread across Adam’s face as he resituated for a better angle.  “I’m experimenting with a new style.”

Adam’s mouth hovered over Ronan’s, two smiles millimeters apart.  “I like it.”

_

The ninth game was a home game.  Matthew had deemed it a crime Adam had yet to show support of Aglionby through clothing and so he’d dropped off one of his many spirit shirts earlier that day.  It now hung from Adam despite all his layering, slightly too big as Matthew was rounder than he was, and he played with the excess fabric nervously as he made his way to their normal spot.  Declan glanced in his direction; Matthew beamed.

“Now you look the part,” he grinned.

Perhaps he was spending too much time surrounded by sports crazy fans.  Gansey tossed the ball while being tackled, Ronan barely scrambling to get the ball and not trip, quickly gaining his composure enough to bolt for the end zone, Adam found himself jerked to his feet of his own accord, the excitement of the rowdy crowd like electricity through his veins, mixing his calls of support for Ronan’s long legs with Matthew’s.  It was only when a defendant tackled Ronan’s legs and the crowd quieted down did Adam realize what had happened.  Matthew was looking at him like a proud parent who’d seen their kid use the bathroom for the first time.  Adam gave him a sheepish smile and sat back down.

Matthew bought him a hot dog to celebrate Adam’s sports puberty despite protest.

The game was over before perhaps Adam was really ready for it to be.  It was finally beginning to sink in, he thought, why so many people attended games.

Following a pre-established trend, Aglionby won.  Essentially expected at this point in the season, the crowd trickled out in a generally mild manner, Declan with them.  Matthew had a test the following morning, as he informed Adam, and so followed Declan’s trail out.  Alone, Adam picked his way down the stands and toward the locker room.

Blue was waiting in the hallway outside.  She smiled when she saw him turn the corner and pushed off the wall to envelop him in a hug, up on her tiptoes.  “Hey, stranger,” she teased as she pulled back.  “Feels like it’s been ages.  All your free time gets eaten up by a certain someone.”

“All my free time gets eaten up by work and homework,” he tossed back.  “I’m not spending nearly as much time with Ronan as I would like.”

“Oh really?”  Blue waggled her eyebrows suggestively.  Adam was a little impressed by the muscle ability.

He rolled his eyes.  “Not like that.  I just want to, I don’t know, be around him.”

Blue hit his arm lightly.  “You’re such a sap!  Mr. I-Don’t-Know-What-Love-Is is actually a giant ass sap!”

“That phone call was made in confidence, Blue, I resent being disrespected in this way.”

“You sound like Gansey,” she laughed and looped her arm through his.  “But, I know, I know.  Not a soul shall know but I.”

The temperature dropped and Noah was on Adam’s other side, ghost arm looped through Adam’s other arm.  “That Adam’s a sap?”

Adam groaned, Blue beamed.  “You are absolutely right, Noah.  Welcome to the Adam is a Sap Club.”

“I hate both of you.”

A flood of players left the locker room, their two unfortunately not among them, and Blue disentangled herself from Adam to move out of their way.  Noah followed his walking battery, starting to play with Blue’s spikes.

An eternity later, Ronan strolled casually out of the locker room changed from his uniform.  He ruffled Noah’s hair like a kid – Noah ran a hand through it with a huff –, bumped Blue good naturedly, and headed to Adam, pausing to appraise his outfit.  He wordlessly raised an eyebrow at the clearly too loose spirit wear.  Adam just shrugged.  The corner of Ronan’s mouth lifted, he shook his head, and draped an arm over Adam’s shoulder.

“You don’t smell awful,” Adam said.

“Gee, thanks, Parrish,” Ronan squeezed, “I reapplied deodorant.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you,” he preened, over exaggerating the lift of tone.

“God, get a room,” Blue stuck out her tongue.  Ronan flipped her off.

“Who’s getting a room?”  Gansey made an appearance.  “Are we going . . . somewhere . . .”  He trailed off as his eyes drifted from Blue and Noah leaning against the wall to Adam and Ronan.  Adam’s hand had drifted at some point and situated itself in Ronan’s back pocket.  The two of them were entangled, he realized, in a very telling way.  “Oh.”

“Oh?” Ronan asked, sounding not at all nervous at Gansey finding out which emboldened Adam; he hadn’t been sure how Ronan would react when the time came.  Blue watched the exchange eagerly.

“Oh.”  Gansey said it firmly, a definitive.  Of what, only he could know.  “Since when?”

Blue decided to pipe in.  “Only an eternity in the making.”

Ronan said, “Shut up,” at the same time Adam ignored her and said, “A month or so.”

“A month or so?  Jesus,” Gansey said, “Christ.”  He turned to Blue.  “Did you know?”  She shrugged.  He turned to Noah.  “Did you?”  Noah did some weird ghost thing that wasn’t an answer.  Gansey threw up his hands.  “Am I just an oblivious ass?”

“Don’t feel bad,” Blue said, “it took them even longer to figure it out for themselves.”

Gansey gave her a withered look as Ronan repeated, “Shut up, maggot,” with more emphasis.  This caught Gansey’s attention.  “Hey,” he said, “be nice to your mother.”

Blue shrieked with joy at the return of the joke while Ronan let out a long suffering groan that echoed down the hall.  “God damn it,” Ronan growled.  “Can we just go get food, please, I’m done with this family dynamic bullshit you keep forcing around.”

“Don’t use such language around your brother.”

“Fuck off, Gansey.”

“Noah is a gentle spirit!”

“Me and Parrish are leaving if you and your bullshit want to come with.”  Ronan used his arm around Adam’s shoulder to steer them around and toward the door leading outside.  Quiet giggling and footsteps followed behind.  As they approached the door, Ronan took his arm back so he could shrug on a jacket and when he was done, Adam linked their hands.  Ronan glanced at him, looking down immediately after as he tried to hide a smile.  He could feel Gansey’s eyes on their lightly swinging hands between them and it felt normal.

As they shuffled into the corner booth at Nino’s, Gansey leaned over to them and quietly said, “I’m really happy for both of you.”

Everything was right.

-

Ronan spent the night at St. Agnes that night.  He teased Adam again about the oversized Aglionby shirt so Adam threw it at his face when he stripped down to his boxers and a white shirt to sleep in. Ronan caught it and suggested, with a burning grin, Adam borrow some of his next time.

“As if you have any spirit wear,” Adam said, pulling off his socks, “I’m surprised you even have your uniform.”

An extra drawer had been laid aside in Adam’s underused dresser after complaints by both parties about Ronan sleeping in his sweaty clothes after games and now Ronan pulled something to sleep in from it.

Adam was beginning to pull back the sheets when arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him close, and a kiss was pressed to the side of his neck.  “So Gansey knows.”

Adam turned in his arms and wriggled his hands under Ronan’s shirt to spread across his back and gently pull him in for a kiss.  “Guess we’re all out and open, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Now that it’s out and official, you’re really stuck with me; everyone’ll make a fuss if you leave,” Adam said it jokingly but Ronan’s eyes were grounded.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam really didn’t have any way to put the pounding of his heart to words, so he kissed his boyfriend and hoped it came across.  Ronan pushed an experimental step backward, hesitated, broke their kiss to stare.  His eyes flicked between Adam’s, unsettled and anxious, questioning.  “Whatever you want,” Ronan said and Adam knew it was in his hands, everything was whatever he wanted it to be.  However far he wanted, however much he could handle.  It was all his call.

Adam pulled Ronan to the bed over top of him, eyes linked, constantly affirming himself – and Ronan – that this was good, this was fine, this was happening.  Ronan came down for a kiss and Adam leaned up to meet him.  It was quick but effective.  Adam’s hands framed Ronan’s face but one slid down his shoulder, chest, twisting at his stomach, and sliding further.  Cupping Ronan’s growing erection was a thrill but the shuddered groan that Ronan broke their lips to release was its own experience only comparable to his strained, “Jesus, Adam.”

There was something about hearing his name slip through Ronan’s mouth like a prayer.  He wondered, for a brief moment, what Ronan’s voice sounded like when he prayed in church and how it compared to the current worship on his lips.

Ronan gently took Adam’s hand in his own and pulled it back up, kissing his palm softly before placing it to the side.  Leaning back, Ronan let his hands slide up Adam’s arms, arching at his shoulders, and coming down his chest.  It was equal effects calming and arousing, a trail of warmth building as his brain computed the sensation, still in awe of any and all touch.  He paused at the band of Adam’s boxers where an obvious tent was pitched.  Hooking either index finger in, Ronan looked at Adam for confirmation.  Adam’s nod was the most confident he’d felt about any decision in his life and he accompanied it with a fast breath of, “yes, Ronan, yes.”  He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Ronan pulled the boxers down, carefully pulling the fabric away from Adam’s aching cock.  Adam groaned.

For a moment, Ronan did nothing, simply looked, absorbed.  Ronan’s eyes were focused, open mouth heaving breaths brushing the head of Adam’s cock.  He groaned, “Ronan,” and in an instant, Ronan complied, wrapping a careful hand around the shaft.  The warmth and rugged feel of his palm was better than Adam’s had ever been or could ever be.

After a few experimental tugs and twists, Ronan set a rhythm.  It was a wonderful type of different to have someone else’s caring hand rather than his rough, impatient pace.  Especially as Ronan was in tune with Adam’s, well, it felt like his everything.  While one hand jerked Adam off, the other never stopped a dedicated course across his skin, stopping to trace scars and birthmarks and outline his ribs.  It was hard to say which distracted him more.

Ronan leaned forward and the change of angle sent another moan through Adam’s lips and a small shudder through his veins.  Ronan took Adam’s moan and swallowed it, pulling on his lips and dipping his tongue into his mouth.  Adam was on the edge, the edge of a precipice, toeing.  The kiss was a nudge but the push came as Ronan’s traipsing hand pushed up, tangled in his hair, and lightly _pulled_. 

Adam came with jolt, skin hot and from the edges of his consciousness he heard Ronan groan.  It wasn’t until he’d regained some of his feeling that he realized Ronan had broken the kiss and tucked his head in the juncture between Adam’s neck and shoulder, grip on his hair loosened.

They breathed for a few moments before Adam’s mind came back.  “Here,” he lifted tingling fingers and attempted to maneuver Ronan’s boxers while Ronan was collapsed against him, “let me –”

Ronan lifted his head and bat Adam’s fumbling hands away.  “Don’t worry about it.”

It was when Ronan began to shuffle off him, presumably in search of something to clean up with, that Adam saw the wet patch on the front of Ronan’s boxers.  It knocked the wind out of him.  Ronan coming untouched just at the sensation of being able to touch Adam was near enough to make his eager cock hard again.

Ronan returned with fresh boxers and an already dirty shirt and wiped Adam down.  Adam pulled him down into a kiss that he hoped said as much as he was feeling.  His chest ached but he felt full at the same time.  A feeling so good it hurt.

They slept soundly, Adam curled around Ronan tightly.  He let him stick his cold toes back between his calves.

-

The alarm rang at 5:30 am.  Adam was instantly awake, used to this routine of exhaustion, but Ronan startled awake and went through a series of groaning.

“Jesus Christ we just went to sleep,” he whined, lifting his side when prompted by Adam so the other boy could retrieve his arm, sit up, and stretch.

“Yeah, well, some of us have to work for a living unlike certain lazy dreamers.”

“If I knew you had to work this early I wouldn’t have kept you up.”

Adam allowed a small smirk, feeling a faint heat in his cheeks.  “Yes you would have.”

A hand encircled his waist and pulled him back just a bit as he felt Ronan sit up behind him.  “Yes I would have,” he agreed.

Resting his chin on Adam’s shoulder, Ronan blinked a few times, still waking up.  Adam turned and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling into it.  “I’ve gotta go to work.”

Ronan blinked a few more times and let go with an affectionate pat on his stomach.  “Yeah, yeah.”

As Adam got ready, grabbing some sliced bread to munch on, all while Ronan splayed across the bed with noodle limbs, he couldn’t stop the warm feeling of domesticity seeping through his veins with each beat of his heart.   He was exhausted, he was busy, he had a god awful long day ahead of him.  But he felt alive.

Adam zipped up his jacket and opened his door.  From the bed, Ronan said, “Have a good day at work,” and it sounded both a parody and a sincere plea, the feelings of which stayed with him through the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is just a bunch of snippets it feels like but they felt like important snippets
> 
> also i don't normally write porn so i'm so sorry if it's bad lmao
> 
> also also ronan is... a sensitive boy and i will go to the grave with the hc of his easily overwhelmed dick thank you and goodnight


	14. Chapter 14

The tenth game was home.  It was also incredibly tense.  If Aglionby won, as Matthew informed Adam, the team would go to the playoffs with a chance to win a championship of some kind.  Aglionby had been doing great this season, Adam suggested, with just a few losses.  Yes, said Matthew, but their opponent was undefeated with projections to win.  So: tense.

At halftime, Aglionby was down by two touchdowns.  The crowd was dissonant; even bright Matthew seemed disappointed, though he kept with his supportive cheers.  The team, too, as they filed off the field at the whistle, portrayed the atmosphere of the home side.  Posture slumped as they walked, some shaking their heads, others kicking at turf.  Ronan walked stiff beside Gansey to the locker room.

Adam watched the band perform halftime with the sudden memory of his confession to Ronan all those weeks ago, the night at the Barns, the night of their first kiss.  _I wanted to be in the band_.  It felt like a lifetime ago; he hadn’t kissed Ronan then nearly as much as he had now.

Declan had left when the band started and as they marched off the field to Aglionby’s fight song, he reappeared with hot chocolate in tow.  He shoved the cup in Adam’s face so fast Adam instinctively reached up.  Before he could refuse – he didn’t have any money on hand to pay him back – Declan said, “Drink the damn chocolate, Adam.”  He had a short, authoritative tone, like Gansey’s Politician’s Son Face and Voice, so Adam immediately stifled, but Matthew smiled encouragingly at him and sipped his own hot chocolate, which Declan had handed to him much gentler.  Adam drank.

The team came back onto the field with slightly more feeling, apparently emboldened by what yelling the coach had most likely done.  Adam sipped his hot chocolate, let its warm tendrils stretch through his numb limbs, while Matthew chimed in his ear.  The other team had a significant lead.  They’d put in less experienced players to prove their worth while the key players rested on the bench.

A play progressed, ordinary, and Adam allowed himself to phase out as Aglionby played defense; Ronan and Gansey, offensive players, were off the field.  He nearly jumped out of his skin when the crowd erupted into a tremendous roar, making a significant effort not to spill his drink.  Matthew leapt to his feet and Adam followed, lightning surging through the bodies around him.

The other team had fumbled and some underclassman Adam didn’t know had recovered.  The ball was back in Aglionby’s hands.  The other team immediately switched back to their key players but it was too late.  The Aglionby team was amped back up, morale through the roof as the offensive players came onto the field.  Adam spied Ronan smacking Gansey excitedly on the back as they passed.

That was the turning point of the game.  After the ball returned to the other team following an Aglionby touchdown, Aglionby began giving the other team a fight with revitalized energy.  Throws were blocked, quarterbacks sacked, touchdowns prevented.  The other team gave as good as they got.  Going into the fourth quarter, the two teams were stuck on their scores, Aglionby down by seven.

Adam felt, at once, in place.  The crowd was not idle; energy passed between the packed and buzzing bodies, and he willingly acted when it passed to him.  On his feet beside Matthew, Adam bounced on his toes, eyes following the action and fingers tapping out his excited energy on his cup’s foam exterior.  It felt weird to feel fit in.

With three minutes remaining, Gansey stepped back and looked for a clear pass.  Adam could see his first look to Ronan but the other team was defending hard and everywhere Ronan tried to get, his defender was there.  Midfield, a receiver broke free.  Adam could tell the exact moment Gansey saw him, saw his friend coil.  Gansey threw just as a lineman broke free and tackled him.  The crowd, team, and Adam watched the ball in slow motion.  A beautiful shot, the ball spun with a steady roll, sliding neatly into the receiver’s hands.

Time sped up.  The receiver bolted.  The other team hounded.  Forty yards to go.  Suddenly, Ronan was beside the receiver; Adam didn’t know how he managed to make it so far so fast.  Thirty yards to go.  A defender came around the side.  Ronan shouldered him away from the racing receiver.  Twenty yards to go.  Ronan was tall, not particularly bulky, but there was strength in his very essence and he fended off defenders left and right.  Ten yards to go.  Adam was fairly sure this wasn’t Ronan’s job.  Touchdown.

The crowd roared, Adam included.  Matthew grabbed him, hugging him tight and shaking.  The receiver did a cooldown jog, hands and ball in the air triumphantly.  He tossed the ball to a referee and circled back to do a jump bump with Ronan, further extending his gratitude by grabbing him in a hug when they hit the ground.  Gansey and the rest of the team ran up to pat his back and helmet before circling back to the sidelines and their coach.

“They’re gonna go for the two point conversion,” Matthew said, close to his hearing ear.  “There’s not enough time for them to get the ball back and make a touchdown.  Overtime is too risky.  They know it and the other team knows it.”

“It will not be easy.”  Adam was surprised to hear Declan’s input.  “The other team is going to put a strong line in.”

Aglionby lined up, without any pretense of kicking for the field goal.  Everyone knew what was happening, everyone knew the stakes.  The other team’s line was a solid wall of big players, just as Declan predicted.  Gansey lined up, the ball was snapped, tense silence hung over the stadium, and Gansey surged forward. 

The other team’s wall was intimidating but Gansey was iron when he had his mind on something; Adam knew from experience.  A crack formed and Gansey slipped through, ball before him.  Across the line.

A collective breath was sucked through the stands and then released in explosive excitement, and Adam cheered with the best of them.  Even Declan was standing.  Matthew grabbed Adam again, lifted him off his feet in all the excitement, before turning to Declan and doing the same.  Adam thought he saw a genuine smile on Declan’s face but, having never seen one, he couldn’t be sure.

“We’re going to playoffs!” Matthew yelled and responding hoots came from all around them.  Adam couldn’t stop grinning.

On the field, the Aglionby team had collected in a mass group, surrounding Gansey and the receiver who’d made the initial touchdown.  There was a lot of jumping, helmet smacking, and yelling.  Adam couldn’t tell which one was Ronan but he was doubtless doing the same as everyone else.

The referees started herding people off the field and the Aglionby mass became mobile, heading towards the locker room.

The stands began to clear out, bits of the discussion reaching Adam’s ear as they passed.  With the excitement, the stands had stayed full the entire game meaning leaving was going to be a slow and messy process.  Declan left with the majority, Matthew and Adam waited for the crowd to thin and then made their way to the locker room.  The clamor of the players carried out of the locker room and bounced along the concrete walls of the hallway.  Adam shrunk back on instinct and Matthew had mercy.

“I’ll go see if I can find him, you just wait here.”  Matthew disappeared into the noise.

Twenty minutes and a bull rush of people later, Adam was sure the entire team must have left but there was no sign of Matthew or Ronan.  His heart skipped as his brain said _abandoned_ , but he promptly shoved it aside.  Adam started for the locker room door with a fresh flow of oxygen.

As soon as Adam turned into the doorway of the quiet locker room, Ronan pulled him into an urgent kiss, pressing him against the wall.  Adam made a muffled sound of surprise but responded in kind as soon as he regained his bearings.  Ronan pulled back for air, keeping his face close so that his panted breaths brushed Adam’s reddened lips.

“Okay,” Adam breathed, biting his lip.

Ronan didn’t respond, just hooked his fingers into Adam’s belt loops and pulled him further into the locker room.  He kissed him again while he led him, biting gently at Adam’s lower lip before sucking lightly to relieve the sting.  Distracted by Ronan’s mouth, Adam was persuaded to sit on a bench without any thought other than the absolute attractiveness of Ronan’s entire being.  Ronan crouched between his knees after pushing Adam’s jacket off his shoulders, kissing him thoroughly before biting at his chin and working his way down his neck.  Apparently growing a little impatient, he placed his hand purposefully and solidly on Adam’s crotch and squeezed.  The sound that came out of Adam’s mouth was more air than noise and earned him a kiss on his collarbone.

Reaching under his shirt, Ronan ran his hands over bare skin, flicking his thumbs across Adam’s nipples while he returned to kiss his mouth.  He maneuvered fully onto his knees, moved his hands around to Adam’s hips, pulled him forward, and buried his face into Adam’s crotch, mouthing at his hardening dick through his jeans.

Adam’s surprised groan echoed through the empty locker room, bouncing off the concrete walls and metal lockers.  His hands shot to Ronan; one on his shoulder, the other rubbing over his head.  “Shit, Ronan.”

Ronan hm’d in response and the vibrations of his throat went through his jeans straight to his dick.  While one hand opened his jeans, the other came to wrap around the newly freed cock.  As Ronan’s mouth encircled Adam’s cock, Adam’s head came to rest back against the locker.  His hands roamed freely, touching whatever of Ronan he could reach.  His hand came to rest over Ronan’s on his thigh, and he squeezed it when he came.

Adam pulled Ronan up into a hard kiss, his tongue darting into Ronan’s mouth to taste himself there.  Ronan groaned, pulling Adam closer so his limp dick was pressed carefully between them.  After a few  breathing moments, Adam zipped himself back up while Ronan wiped at his mouth.  When he stood, Adam wobbled and Ronan held a hand against his neck to steady him and pull him in for another quick kiss.

“What was that for?” Adam asked, leaning into Ronan’s hand.

“We’re going to the playoffs, man.”

Adam laughed his surprised laugh.  “I hope you win those too.”  His hands fell to Ronan’s jeans, but Ronan bat his hands away.  “Don’t worry about it.”

He stiffened, his mind more coherent and, apparently, on the attack.  Since their first, Ronan had provided Adam with a few orgasms, but had always fended off a return.  _Breathe._   “I’m starting to get the feeling you don’t want my hands on you.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything.”  It was said sincerely and serenely as Ronan ran a hand through his tossed hair; an unfairly distracting move.  “I sucked you off because I wanted to.  You don’t have to blow me just because.”

“Has it crossed your mind that I _want_ to suck your dick?”  The hand in his hair tightened.  “Cause I, like, do.”

So he, like, did.

The concrete floor of the locker room felt rough and cold on his knees but he knew it would do no permanent damage so he ignored it.  Popping the button of the jeans Ronan had changed into, he took in the sight to the melody of Ronan’s staggered breathing above him.  Though he wanted to admire, he knew it was chilly and Ronan was getting impatient, so he made quick work.  Still, he took small moments to commit the sight of Ronan’s dick in his hand to memory, marvel at the first sensation of his head on his tongue.  Ronan didn’t last long but he didn’t mind.  As Adam stood, thumbing his lip, Ronan cradled his face in both hands and captured him in the most intense and yet most gentle kiss of his entire life.  A myriad of emotions, a bit of soul, all laid bare at a meeting of lips.

When they were bundled back up and ready to brace the cold, Ronan reached for Adam’s hand and keys with a quiet statement that seemed deafening in the empty locker room.  “Let’s go home.”

  -

Saturday morning saw Adam off for a long and tenuous shift at the warehouse, made easy by a sweet goodbye kiss and the memory of the locker room on his tongue before coming home and writing a ten page essay.

Sunday saw double shifts at the warehouse and his third job and cramming for a test the next day.

Monday welcomed Adam with Ronan’s easy smile, an easy test, and the announcement that the school would be taking a bus to the playoffs.  “The trip will include a seat on one of the charter buses, a meal before the game, admittance, and a selection of snacks from the concessions.  The fee is $50,” the female secretary droned as if Adam’s happy glaze wasn’t shattering.

Afterschool welcomed Adam to an onslaught of bills in his mailbox.

Evening saw Adam trudging to the garage, mood in the sewers.

The garage was burning, heat radiating.  John had set up a space heater in his corner, claiming the cold was playing at his old joints.  The guys were especially animated today and the hustle of their talk added to the warmth.  Adam worked quietly in his area, mind determinedly blank as he listened to the chatter and occasionally wiped sweat from his forehead. 

The conversation didn’t hold shape in his ear until Terry raised his voice in his direction.  “Heard on the radio your team won Friday.  Going to the finals.  That’s a big deal.”

Adam glanced up, a hint of a smile forming as he remembered Friday night.  “Yeah.  Yeah, it was a great game.”

“You’ll be heading up to Dennersville then, to watch them play?”

His smile faded and he looked down at the engine he was working on to hide the shift of his face.  He picked up a wrench.  “Ah, no.  No, I can’t afford to go up.”

There was a pregnant pause where Adam’s grip on the wrench tensed, and he tightened the closest screw.

John spoke first, “Sorry.”  There was a click as he switched his heater’s setting.

“It’s alright, kid,” Terry said, “playoffs aren’t all they’re cranked up to be.”

Adam just shrugged, kept his eyes focused on the engine, and the others eventually started their conversation back up, though slightly less vibrant.

For as well as she’d been treating Adam lately, life was still an unfair bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey...... it's me.... 12 years later. the last two semesters have been buckwild let me tell you so i apologize for dropping off there for a bit but let me reassure you, i'm not abandoning this work. it may drop off like it did in these last couple months, but gd it it's gonna get done.
> 
> that being said um this is a reminder that i don't know anything about sports and i certainly shouldn't be writing anything about them lol 
> 
> last but not least i kind of read over this once before posting so any mistakes you see are mine and unfortunate and i'm very sorry!


	15. Chapter 15

Adam didn’t see Ronan the rest of the week, mostly because he was avoiding him.  He dreaded telling him he wouldn’t be able to go to the playoffs, to support him like he’d done with all his other games so far.  Ronan would understand, wouldn’t make a big deal of it, Adam knew, but it would hurt nonetheless.  Bills, school, and food just had to come first.  Rationality.

Sunday morning was reserved for homework and simultaneously much needed laundry until Adam’s shift in the afternoon.  Ronan – he just heard the door but it had to be Ronan – came up after church and Adam listened to him shed his coat and suit jacket, go to his drawer, and pull out something casual.  Adam worked as Ronan changed behind him and kept working as he heard him settle on the bed.

There were a few moments of blissful silence where Adam answered number forty-two and then Ronan’s soft voice.  “What’s wrong?”

Adam felt himself still and then forced himself to keep writing.  “Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”  The bed creaked as Ronan leaned back.  “I haven’t seen you all week – I’m guessing not just circumstantially – and you haven’t even looked at me since I walked in.”

“I’ve got a lot going on.”

“Yeah, so have I with playoffs next week but – ” Adam stiffened and Ronan cut off.  “Playoffs?”  The creaky old washing machine _dinged_ and Adam went to it, emptied the dryer and put his wet clothes in.  He began to fold his dry laundry onto a loose box.  “Jesus Christ, Adam, will you just talk to me?  What about playoffs has your boxers in a bunch?” 

Adam could feel his anger pooling at the persistence and deliberately kept folding.  “Just let it go.”

Ronan was beside him now, took the shirt he was folding from his hand, and dropped it on the folded pile.  “This,” he waved his finger between them, “is a _relationship_ which means we share, which means you need to talk to me about what’s bothering you.”

“The relationship I grew up watching meant one got angry and the other got hit.”

Ronan paused and breathed, looked almost wounded at the same time he looked ashamed.  Quietly, he picked up the shirt he’d taken from Adam and folded it onto the pile.  “I want you to trust me with stuff, Adam.  With everything.”

Adam studied his face for a moment.  “I can’t go to playoffs.”

A beat.  A swallow.  Adam couldn’t read his face.  “Okay.”  They stood there, staring at each other for a few moments, finding their way through murky water.  “I’m not mad, Adam.”

“But I am!”  The heat was back in his chest and he was quick to breathe, cool it down.  _I’m not my father._   “I want, I want to _be there_ at the game and for you and for Gansey, but I can’t afford to.  My bills and my necessities come first, always have to, and I’m mad that I’m stuck here, born poor and forced to claw my way out.”

“I probably can’t convince you to let me pay for the trip?”  Adam glared, Ronan shrugged, and Adam started folding again.  “It’s okay if you’re not there, I understand.  I appreciate just the effort it took to come to all the home games; it means a lot to me.  I know it was rough for you to take a few hours off being busy.”  Adam side-eyed him.  A single step and Ronan was in his space.  “Would you feel better if I brought you home a trophy?”

Despite himself, Adam huffed a laugh, stopped folding.  “Maybe.  Make all the Fridays worth it.”

Ronan smirked.  “Then a trophy it is.”  He pressed a short kiss to Adam’s cheek and returned to the bed.  By the time Adam finished folding, he’d fallen into a light sleep, and Adam finished his homework to the cadence of Ronan’s soft breaths and Cabeswater’s idle chatter, feeling only slightly better.

-

Monday afterschool, he was back at the garage.  When he walked in, the other guys were acting strangely, looking at him out of the corner of their eyes in short bursts.  Adam glanced at his watch, worried he was maybe late but, no, he was ten minutes early.  He sent them all a curious look and then got to work at his station.

The car before him had been rammed at a stop light.  There was a lot happening and a lot to be done; he wasn’t quite sure where to start.  There was the siding but maybe he should start with the inner workings before finishing the outside.  Twenty minutes into his shift and deep in his thoughts, Adam didn’t hear the approach of the others until he glimpsed a body out of the corner of his eye.  When he turned, he found the five other mechanics shuffling their feet and avoiding eye contact, but grouped in front of him like an intervention.  Someone bumped John and he stepped forward. 

“Hey, Adam,” he rubbed at his neck.  Adam began to get anxious.  “Listen, me and the guys, we’ve all been talking and well – ” John stuck out his hand, where a wad of bills had been hastily straightened out and arranged.  Adam didn’t move.  “We know you’ve been really enjoying football this year and we want you to go to the playoffs.  As a final hurrah for the season.”

“We pooled and there should be enough there to cover the fee of the bus and all that school stuff and also whatever you’d make at whichever of your ten jobs you work on Friday,” Terry said.  “Call it early Christmas.”

“Or graduation!”

Someone behind Terry said, “You deserve it, kid.”

John stepped forward and pressed the money into Adam’s hand.  Adam looked at it in a haze; he hadn’t felt this close to crying in a long time.  His hand tightened around the money, too overcome with emotion for his brain to yell at him about pride.  “Thank you.  I, I don’t know what to say.”

With a smile, John lightly smacked Adam’s shoulder.  “Having the time of your life cheering on your team is as good a response as any.”

They stood there, the group watching Adam stare at the money like a dream, for a few more moments before Terry said, “Alright, boys, back to work.”

The group dispersed, everyone back to acting normal, while Adam slowly put the money in his wallet and into his pocket.  The garage felt warmer, a shield against the autumn cold.

-

Ronan was already in his apartment when Adam came home after work on Tuesday.  The small dingy living space had never felt so much like home as Adam came in from the cold and rainy day, shaking the water from his hair and passing Ronan a broad smile.  Ronan smiled back, pausing in tossing corn to Chainsaw who hopped along the top of Adam’s dresser. 

Throwing on pajamas and draping himself beside his boyfriend, he innocently asked, “Do you have any spirit wear I can borrow?”

Ronan’s brow crinkled.  “I’ve only got my second jersey.  Why?”

“I need something to wear Friday.”

A smile broke out on Ronan’s face.  “You’re coming.”

“Your jersey works just fine.”

Ronan leaned over him, still smiling, framed his face with his arms.  “Guess I’ve just got more motivation to win that trophy.”  He pressed a smiling kiss to Adam’s mouth and laid back down.  They both watched Chainsaw hop along furniture and attempt to catch corn Ronan threw at her.

“Coach told us there’s going to be scouts at the game,” Ronan said after some time.

Adam paused, waited a beat for more.  When there wasn’t any, he prompted, “Is that a good or bad thing?”

“Good if you’re planning on playing good and if you want college offers.  Bad if you get anxious like Tad.”

Adam wasn’t sure what this conversation was, what exactly Ronan wanted to express yet, but he trusted Ronan would tell him when he was ready.  For now, he just inspected Ronan’s profile and prompted again.  “Okay.  So good or bad?”

“Well I’m not planning on playing like shit.”

This drew a fond smile onto Adam’s face as his eyes continued admiring Ronan’s turned away gaze.  “No I bet not.”

They drifted back into silence, Adam turning to pick a half read book off the floor and Ronan stroking Chainsaw when she hopped over after lack of attention.  Finally, he said, “It’s good.”  Adam looked up, waited.  Ronan finally looked up as well, stilled his hands, eyes on Adam before dancing around the room and coming back to stay on him.  “I want college offers.  I’m hoping . . . well I’m hoping for offers wherever you’re looking.  I don’t need scholarships but I don’t exactly have the grades that scream ‘admit me!’ so I’m hoping football will get me in.  You know this is home to me and I’ll always come back to the Barns, but being away for a bit . . . with you . . . sounds okay.”

Adam’s heart was pitter pattering in his chest and all he could do was grab Ronan’s closest body part – his forearm – and squeeze, looked deep in his eyes so he’d _know_.  “Sounds great.”

Ronan sighed like he’d just run a marathon and turned back to his now-sleeping bird.  “Yeah,” he said softly, half to Adam, half to Chainsaw it seemed, “sounds great.”

-

Paying the fee in the office felt like a victory all its own.  Strolling in, signing the sheet, handing the money over like he had it, like he’d always have it, no worries.  Like pretending to be someone else.  Someone else he would one day be.

Wednesday and Thursday flew by.  School and his shifts seemed irrelevant as he went about them; he forgot what it felt for time to drag.  When Gansey found out he was going, he beamed and expressed how he couldn’t wait to see him there.  Blue pulled him into a tight hug he could barely breathe through.  “You’ve got to sit behind the team!” she insisted. “It’ll be like we’re all together.”

For the first time in his life, Adam called off a shift.  He’d never called off, so they gave it to him, and he had to incessantly tell the voice in his head it’d be okay if he missed one shift.  Things would work out.

Friday afternoon, Adam crowded out of the school with the rest of the students going to the game onto a bus, Matthew plopping into the seat beside him a few moments after he’d got settled.  The youngest Lynch had his classic sunshine smile and complimented Adam’s attire before removing his hat and putting it on Adam’s head.

“Now you’re really ready to cheer them on.” 

Ronan had given him his second jersey, like he offered, and with the lack of padding which would usually go under it, there was plenty of room for Adam to layer against the cold, especially as Chainsaw had torn a few small but incredibly air fluent holes.  He’d forgotten a hat, though, so Matthew’s school hat was a grateful addition.

It took around two hours to get to Dennersville which Adam used to carefully do some homework and Matthew used to sleep.  He’d gotten through calculus, Latin, and was beginning English when they arrived; he was barely able to shove the work into his backpack before they were ushered off the bus.  Their chaperones guided them through lines to collect the included food and pushed them off towards the student section.  Declan silently joined them halfway between the concession stand and the student section, giving Adam a near heart attack at his arrival.  Matthew hit him on the arm in chastisement and then offered him a potato chip.  Declan’s presence initially surprised him, though Adam supposed it shouldn’t.  Declan had been to every game alongside him; he might as well go to the playoffs as well.

Having told Matthew about Blue’s request, they sat behind the home team.  Matthew just had to flash his brilliant smile and give some people already seated there a peek at his vibrant personality and the space was theirs.  Declan hovering behind looking like he could end the world with a phone call likely didn’t hurt either. 

Both teams entered to an eruption of noise.  The other team was home and the stands on the opposite side were packed full of students and adults alike.  Not to be outdone, Aglionby had brought a significant portion of the student population and many adults joined the visitors’ side as well.  As the coin toss concluded and the game started, he could hear Henry Cheng leading the student section through a loud and horrendously catchy chant and then an equally loud and catchy pop song.

Aglionby did not have it easy but neither did the other team.  By halftime, both teams had only one touchdown on the board and both were hard won and hard pressed.  The equality of the skill would make an interesting and worthwhile game, Adam told Matthew.  Matthew agreed.

Third quarter proved just as challenging and by the beginning of the fourth, the standstill was as frustrating for audience and player as it was exciting.  Every close call was an adrenaline rush and every blocked pass was an aggravation. 

Three minutes to the end of the game, the other team kicked a field goal before turning the ball over to Aglionby.  With only two and a half minutes to get points on the board, Aglionby pressed, gaining a first down, but after that were blocked.  They were too far to kick to tie it up – Adam could see Tad pacing the sideline in the frustration of it – and Gansey was getting heavy pressure from the defense, both in running and passing.

With less than a minute left and only one more chance before having to turn the ball over, the ball was snapped and tension was felt through the stands.  A player Adam didn’t know the name of circled around and Gansey handed the ball to him.  The defenders turned their focus on him, but suddenly Gansey was letting the ball fly; they’d faked it.

Ronan caught the ball to a chorus of excited cheers and started running.  Defenders were immediately on his tail but another Aglionby player came to help shoulder them off, like Ronan had done for the receiver two weeks before.  Ronan crossed into the end zone to a flurry of excitement.  A field goal was set up and kicked and then Aglionby became champions.

The visitor side was roaring.  The energy was incomparable, loud, buzzing like a swarm through the stands; it crowded Adam’s hearing ear and Cabeswater pressed on his deaf one, drawn by his raised adrenaline.  On the field, the Aglionby team rushed onto the field, swarming the players, yelling and calling reaching even the above the chaos in the stands.  That, the buzz, the emotion, Adam wasn’t sure what it was but something drove him to grip the fence and launch himself over.  The stands were elevated so the drop to the field was a little long and the landing jarred his legs.  Adam shook them out and started moving, hearing Blue and Matthew call out his name.

The team had encircled Ronan, yelling and jumping and patting him and one another, but when they lifted him slightly off the field, Adam called his name and Ronan saw him, hopping back to the ground.  Adam couldn’t see through all the shuffling and hopping bodies, but he could hear, somehow, the faint calling of his name before Ronan eventually appeared, his teammates turning to watch his unexpected departure.  “Adam!”

Both of them were running which Adam would remember in retrospect as definitely cliché.  The stadium was loud and packed, but at that moment he could hear nothing except his own labored breathing and his name on Ronan’s lips.  “Ronan,” he breathed just as Ronan said, “Adam,” and they met in the middle of the field.

They managed to slow down before a collision so their kiss became a hard, hurried press instead of a bloody knock.  Adam’s hands dug into Ronan’s jersey – sweaty despite the cold – while Ronan’s hands cradled Adam’s face, warming his cold, red cheeks.

Their kiss didn’t last long, an overflow of emotion, before they pulled back and rested their foreheads together.  It was then that Adam realized it was oddly quiet.  It was also then that Adam realized he had just kissed Ronan Lynch on a football field, in his jersey, at the playoffs populated by a large portion of the student body.  It was maybe televised.  Ronan’s grip on him tightened and Adam thought he might have realized the same thing. 

They pulled back and Adam realized he’d started a movement.  The field was filled with now students and other audience members as well as the players.  They milled and shouted and jumped and poured their excitement onto their friends and family members, continuing to fill the stadium and field with noise and energy.  Despite the movement, the area surrounding the pair was sparse and still, as those around them watched their scene.

Both he and Ronan froze for a moment, but Adam found less panic than he expected within himself.  There was definitely still some present as an uncomfortable amount of people were watching him kiss his boyfriend but he was simultaneously so goddamn happy and everything seemed like it was happening on another plane it didn’t even matter.  Ronan rested his forehead against Adam’s and breathed.

“Kiss him again!”  The shout came from somewhere in a student crowded area and sounded eerily like Henry Cheng.  Some cheers and shouts erupted around them, Cheng leading them in it, and the stillness spread out as more people came to see what the commotion was.

Ronan’s grin was sharp and sincere.  “Who am I to deny the people?”  He leaned back down to a kiss with an awkward start due to Adam’s aching smile, and proceeded to give the bird in Henry’s direction through the duration.

When they pulled apart again, it was more cheers, and they reveled in it for a few moments, smiling at each other amidst the noise.  Ronan closed his eyes and pressed his nose into Adam’s cheek.  “Shit.”  Adam kissed him again, a short one on his cheek.  “Alright,” Ronan pulled back, called out, “you all can fuck off now.  Get your rocks off somewhere other than right here.  Cheng, if you start another cheer I _will_ personally kick your ass.”

Teachers seemed to appear then, trying to wrangle all the students they brought back to the buses so they could go home, as it was too late to save themselves for repercussions about the field storming.

Ronan draped his arm over Adam’s shoulder, pulled him tight into his side, and started to walk them with the crowd.  Adam wrapped his arm around Ronan’s side and pulled just as tight.  “One day there will be a movie based on our lives and this scene will be the climax of the film,” Ronan said, suddenly.  “It’ll be raining, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And if Aglionby doesn’t win, my house will be demolished and my family killed.  You know, just to make sure the stakes are raised enough as I play.”

“And if I miss work to be here, I’ll be fired and starve to death.  But I take the risk cause I care so much about you.”

Ronan nodded matter-of-factly.  “Exactly.  Hollywood loves that dramatic shit.”

“Been thinking a lot about our Life Time potential lately, Ronan?”

“You just have a film worthy face, Adam.”

They stayed wrapped around each other, making their way through the crowds, the energy crackling around the air as they stayed in their bubble.  Ronan walked Adam back to the buses, giving him a quick kiss and leaving him with Matthew before running off to join the rest of the football team at their bus.

The ride back to Aglionby was so fucking long.  Adam just wanted to be around Ronan right now, just be in his presence.  Two hours later, Ronan caught up with him in the Aglionby parking lot, bumped shoulders.  “I kind of hate that we drove separate cars today.  I just really want to drive home with you.”

Adam smiled.  “I mean we could.  Just come drop me off for my car tomorrow morning before work.  If you think you can get up.”

“God,” Ronan fake groaned, rubbed at his neck, “I _guess_ I can manage that.”

They walked to the BMW, separating to get in.  It revved quietly to life in the quiet parking lot, headlights splitting through the dark autumn night as they pulled out.  A few minutes into the ride, Ronan reached out silently, placed his hand palm up between them.  Not even attempting to quell his smile, Adam held Ronan’s hand and gripped tight. 

Ronan kept his eyes on the road, but Adam studied his sharp profile in silence, head resting on the headrest.  After a few more minutes, Ronan squeezed Adam’s hand tight, and Adam felt him tremble just a bit as he flicked his eyes over to Adam.  The radio was on, playing a quiet melody in his hearing ear; lights flicked along, highlighting Ronan’s profile.  “I love you,” Ronan said, quiet and matter-of-fact, soft but assured.  Nervous but full.  Adam’s heart pounded and he watched Ronan glance at him again.  “You don’t have to - ”

“I know,” Adam brought their linked hands up, kissed Ronan’s knuckles.  He knew, he’d known, he was scared to pieces and at peace.  “You’re not exactly subtle, Lynch.”

“I love you so much.”

They drove the rest of the way with their hands linked, pulled up so Adam could rest his hot cheek against Ronan’s cool hand.  At the apartment, they curled up contently, close for warmth and comfort against the near frozen night.

“You didn’t play like shit,” Adam said when they’d settled.

Ronan laughed, a sweet and truly happy smile on his face.  “Told you I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Scouts’ll be happy?”

“I guess, though I’m not sure how they feel about our dramatic embrace.”  He emphasized by giving Adam a squeeze and a quick kiss on his shoulder.

“These days, everyone loves a heartwarming high school gay success.”  They both knew it wasn’t true but it was sweet to think about.  “When do you think you’ll hear from them?”

“I don’t know,” Ronan said, took a moment to think about it.  “Within the month, most like.”

“Then we can start looking at schools.  Sound good?”  They still had time. 

Ronan smiled, so sweet a thing, and said, “Sounds great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall we really in the home stretch now. there's just one more chapter left! i'll have a longer farewell note then but for now i'll just say thanks for reading and i'll see you for the final chapter!!!


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